


The Knight Bus Crew

by Rowanmoonlight



Series: Family is a Purple Bus [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), All of harry’s living family sucks but it’s okay because he has his fellow employees to rely on, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Harry runs away from the Dursleys, Knight Bus Employee Harry, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Red-Haired Harry Potter, Running Away, Smart Harry Potter, Study of Ancient Runes (Harry Potter), The Knight Bus, The Ministry Of Magic is terrible at recognizing child mistreatment, that also have dysfunctional families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 58,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23886658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowanmoonlight/pseuds/Rowanmoonlight
Summary: When Harry finally ran away from the Dursleys after a fateful visit from his Aunt Marge, he definitely wasn’t expecting to get a job. Learning more about wizarding culture, that not all Slytherins are bad, ancient runes, and how to find family, this was certainly not how he saw his third year going. A mass murderer who happens to be his godfather has escaped prison and his friends haven’t noticed that he leaves each night to go to his job. Could this year get any more chaotic? Yes, because it’s Harry Potter.
Relationships: Bathilda Bagshot & Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Ernie Prang, Harry Potter & Original Character(s), Harry Potter & Stan Shunpike, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Remus Lupin & Harry Potter
Series: Family is a Purple Bus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860721
Comments: 285
Kudos: 1174
Collections: Finished111, Mirage664's Best of Best





	1. An Unusually Colored Bus

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, defeater of Voldemort, wizard, sat at a table surrounded by people who hated his very existence. This boy had not grown up with a kind and loving family, or even people he could call family at all. The Dursleys were cruel people who took every opportunity to mock the young savior of the wizarding world. Tonight however, would be much worse.

Marjorie ‘Marge’ Dursley was not at all aware of the magical powers her unrelated nephew possessed. What she was aware of, was that he needed to be disciplined after all of the strain he had out in her darling brother and his family.

Marge had started off by mocking the boy himself. After that had proven mostly ineffective she moved onto the topic of the boy’s parents. To her knowledge they were unemployed drunkards who got themselves killed in a car crash. Now there was the reaction she was looking for, yelling and frustration.

Sharing a look with her brother, they rose together to teach the boy a lesson.

The siblings’ first blows were one after another, targeting the young man’s back and chest. Seemingly forgetting that he had magic, or too afraid to use it, Harry fought them off and ran.

As Harry approached the closet under the stairs that used to be his bedroom the lock sprung open. His magic continued to work in his frantic state, quickly organizing all of his belongings. Subconsciously reaching out with his magic the rest of his personal items followed. His wand sailed down the stairs and Harry caught it and quickly turned it on Vernon’s angry face.

“Let me leave. Stay out of my way,” Harry spat out in a brief burst of brave stupidity.

Vernon’s face had turned a color rather similar to a tomato. “You had better leave right now before I kill you boy! I won’t have a freak in my house any longer, no sir! Go, get out!”

And Harry got out. Running down the dark street with his trunk trailing behind him and wand in hand Harry tried to think of a plan. He eventually stopped running once he realized that no one would be coming after him. A quick scan of his trunk and bag revealed that all of his possessions had been placed inside, including the letters from his friends that had been stashed under a loose floorboard.

What would he tell his friends? He was determined that no one would know about his home situation, because what would people think of the boy who lived being treated like a freak? No, he would not inform his friends that he had run away. They would most likely try to reason that he should return, even after Ron had seen the literal bars on his window last summer. He shouldn’t bother them with his troubles and risk being sent back to Number Four.

But what could he do? He had done accidental magic earlier, though he wasn’t entirely sure if the Ministry could detect something so minor, Dobby had done levitation magic that was a bit more complicated than organizing items. Harry tried to keep his mind away from any thoughts of being expelled, reasoning that surely they wouldn’t kick him out over a little bit of accidental magic.

Now, what to do for his living situation. He was pretty sure that there were rentable rooms at the Leaky Cauldron but he had no way of getting there. Unless he wanted to risk being truly expelled, he could not levitate his trunk and fly under the invisibility cloak. He also did not have enough muggle money to get to the Leaky Cauldron and did not even know where it was located.

A faint memory brought itself to the surface of Harry’s mind. Ron discussing different broom models, a slight mention of other magical transportation, some kind of bus. He was sure of it now, Ron had once talked about some kind of magic bus that could be summoned by a some kind of motion.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw something large and black with bright eyes. Stiffening, he quickly tried waving his wand in the air. As he heard the slight shifting of bushes he thrust out his arm.

Bang!

A bus that was a rather unfortunate shade of violent purple popped into existence. It screeched to a halt and a young man that looked vaguely familiar stepped off. The man dressed in a matching purple uniform began to recite a short speech that Harry didn’t really listen to.

Looking behind him and not seeing the large dog Harry quickly handed off his trunk. “So, woss your name?”

Making the split second decision to not make himself known Harry came up with a fake name. “David.”

“You gotta las’ name David?” The man, who’s name plate read Stan, took his trunk.

“Thorin. Say, this bus can go anywhere right? How much to the Leaky Cauldron?”

Harry settled himself on a bed behind the driver, an old man with thick glasses. Stan was apparently very proud of the bus, “Course it can go anywhere. Jus’ not underwater. Eleven sickles. More if you want any ‘ot chocolate an’ more if you want a toothbrush. Take it away Ernie!”

After digging through his bag Harry handed over the proper amount of sickles for just the ride, he probably wouldn’t be able to stomach hot chocolate at the moment. He carefully flattened his over his scar so that it was no longer visible. Then he caught sight of a copy of The Daily Prophet.

Harry carefully read over the article. In the background Stan was cheerily listing off what Sirius Black had done when captured. Suppressing a shiver, Harry set down the newspaper and simply watched the passing landscape.

“Hey Ern, how long have you had this old bus again?”

The driver nearly ran over a street lamp as he replied, “About two decades. My old man has had it running longer though. Can you believe that he still won’t give up the enchantment secrets. Old bastard is on his deathbed but still refuses to tell me anything.”

“It sure would be nice if we could get those ol’ runes fixed. It’s a bit too complicated for jus’ me.” Stan didn’t even flinch as the bus suddenly popped into a new location.

Forgetting his rule about not asking questions Harry asked, “What’s wrong with the runes?”

He flinched instinctively, expecting a blow round the head. Stan and Ernie exchanged nervous glances at the action before Stan answered. “Some of the runes ‘ave come undone and need to be reset. Of course the bus is real ‘ard to operate ‘cause of the advanced magic in it. I’m pretty alright at runes, ‘bout the only thing I am good at, but it’s too advanced for me since I’m not a runes master.”

“And my dear old dad won’t tell me how to fix it. It’s some kind of family magic as well as runes so hiring someone to fix it who isn’t family or a worker of the Knight Bus won’t work. It’s almost as if he wants me to fail.” Ernie’s eyes were magnified by his glasses and his deep frown only accented his owlish appearance.

“Say David, watchu on ‘ere for? Got your trunk and everything.” Stan eyed him suspiciously.

“Oh, um, I’m,” Harry struggled for a reasonable answer. “My family wanted me out of the house for a bit, said I needed some real life experience. It’s okay since I’ve got money to live off of for a bit. They’ll let me back soon but I don’t really mind being away from them, we don’t get on well.”

Stan nodded in understanding, “I getchu Thorin, my parents kicked me out once or twice too. ‘Course now I’ve got my own job and don’t have to rely on them no more.

Deciding that it was probably safe to ask more questions Harry began to question the conductor and driver on the Knight Bus. “So, how does it work? Also how do runes function? How does the bus teleport to any person who sticks out their arm? Why don’t you just teleport to the destination instead of driving?”

Ernie looked highly amused, “Well you’re certainly curious. There’s highly complex magic woven into the structure of the bus. This allows it to sense when it’s summoned by a witch or wizards wand arm being extended into a street. Runes are a way to store magic and power spells for a long time, they also can be more difficult and specific than normal spells because they can be combined. However there is only so much magic one object can use, if we simply teleported everywhere the runes would become overworked and the spells strained and the bus itself would eventually take in so much magic that it would become slightly sentient and possibly explode. Have you ever heard of Repeated Apparation Syndrome? It’s when someone apparates a lot in a short amount of time and then can’t use magic for at least several hours and can get a dangerously high fever untreatable by magic.”

Harry thought through the information he had learned and nodded. It was actually quite interesting. He hadn’t really known what runes were for when he had selected classes. Maybe he could owl Professor McGonagall and see if he could add Ancient Runes to his schedule, he was only signed up for two electives which was the bare minimum.

His train of thought was broken when the Knight Bus lurched to a stop outside of the Leaky Cauldron. He stepped out and waited for Stan to collect his trunk.

“Good luck Daniel, if you ever need any help just stick out your arm and call the bus. If you want to get in touch you can probably ask Tom for my information from the last time I stayed here, the name’s Stanley Shunpike.” Stan was smiling earnestly at Harry while Ernie nodded in approval behind him.

Harry beamed, “I’ll be sure to do that Stan.”

With that, the Knight Bus disappeared and Harry was left alone at the Leaky Cauldron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve changed Stan’s accent a bit since the original is a pain to write. Harry did not run into the minister at the Leaky Cauldron because he got there at a slightly different time. I’ve had this idea for about two hours so tell me how you like it!


	2. Harry Potter and the Stuff He was Never Told About

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say, I love red head Harry!

Harry had managed to get himself a room at the Leaky Cauldron for the next several weeks as well as write two letters to Ron and Hermione lying that his Aunt and Uncle had allowed him to stay in the wizarding world for the rest of the summer. After that an official looking owl had swooped through the window and delivered a letter that stated he was not in trouble for underage magic use as accidents often happened when muggle raised children could not practice for months. Harry was happy that he wouldn’t be expelled of course, but he was confused about why the Ministry of Magic had changed their mind since last year. Perhaps they had realized that it was Dobby who had done magic the last summer. Deciding to leave his contemplation for morning, Harry took a well needed rest.

Morning greeted Harry in the form of Hedwig screeching at the closed window, demanding to be let back in. Blearily, Harry stumbled over to the window and opened it for his owl. After untying three letters from her leg she hopped over to her cage and began to drink water.

Curious, Harry set aside the two letters from his friends and opened the one from Mr. Weasley. The contents were short and to the point, if lacking in information.

_ I am glad that you are safe in the wizarding world. Do not leave Diagon Alley for any reason, it is not safe. _

_ Keep out of trouble, _

_ Arthur Weasley _

Harry snorted at the advice, stay in Diagon Alley, for an entire month! While it may be large and fascinating, it certainly wasn’t somewhere he would want to be stuck at for too long. With all of the crowds someone was bound to notice him. His auburn hair and lightning bolt scar were quite distinguishing. Perhaps there was a spell for that.

Setting aside the letter from Mr. Weasley Harry turned to the ones from Ron and Hermione. They were both filled with happiness that he had gotten out of the house and slight concern that he would be alone for so long.

Harry pulled out more of his spare parchment and began to draft responses. He mentioned to Hermione his new interest in taking Ancient Runes and the layering of spells. To Ron he relayed his amusement that if the Knight Bus was overused it could become sentient like his dad’s flying Ford Anglia. A third letter he addressed to Professor McGonagall, wondering if it was too late to add another class to his schedule.

He sent Hedwig off again and turned to the task of trying to tame his hair. While he had inherited the red hair and green eyes of his mother as everyone liked to point out, his hair was also completely unruly like his father’s had been in the photo album Hagrid had provided.

He finally found an older copy of Witch Weekly on the nightstand. Harry perused the contents until he found the cosmetic charms section and a hair changing spell. Prepared for disaster as his hair was always particularly stubborn in staying exactly how it was, even regrowing from being sheared off, Harry cast the spell.

Staring in the mirror was like looking at a picture of young James Potter. Harry’s hair had been spelled black, though it would only last two hours at most. He ran his fingers through the dark locks, a small smile at being able to see the resemblance always mentioned by adults.

But there was time for that later. He hadn’t had enough money on him to pay Tom for his full stay so he had to pick up money from Gringotts. As he slipped into the back alley his stomach was grumbling in protest after not having dinner or breakfast, but Harry pushed through, having gone far longer without eating.

Diagon Alley was as vibrant as Harry remembered. Bright signs flashed and stall vendors called out to passers by. He pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the wizarding bank. The cold marble building was as intimidating as ever, which Harry supposed was a good trait for a bank.

Inside, Harry nervously presented his vault key to one of the goblins. He was led by another goblin, Minegruff, to the nausea inducing carts that would bring him to his vault.

“Do you wish to visit any of your other vaults today, Mr. Potter?” Minegruff sneered up at him.

Harry was rather bewildered, “What other vaults?”

“Your family family vaults?” Minegruff paused and appeared uncertain, “Were you not aware that you are in control of three vaults including this one?”

“Oh, no. What are the other two vaults?” Harry briefly wondered why Hagrid hadn’t mentioned that Harry had more vaults. Perhaps he hadn’t known?

“This is your schooling vault, intended for all of the costs pertaining to textbooks, materials, and the like. Your parents also had a shared vault with some of their personal items and money that was intended for their daily use. The last vault is the Potter family vault. It contains artifacts belonging to your family as well as most of your fortune and family records. The only vault you can withdraw money from until you turn seventeen and claim the title of Lord Potter is your school vault. However, you may access the records and items stored in the other vaults.”

Harry tried to process the new information. He had more money, which he could not use until he became whatever ‘Lord Potter’ was. His parents may have left personal items that he could find. The prospect of having another connection to his deceased parents made him ask, “Can you bring me to the personal vault please?”

Minegruff nodded and started the cart off again. “Would you like to speak with the goblin in charge of the Potter affairs?”

Trying not to vomit, Harry managed a strained, “Yes please.”

When they stopped at another vault Minegruff simply laid a hand on the door and waited. Soon, another cart was speeding down the tracks and an older looking goblin hopped out. He nodded his head towards Harry, “Heir Potter, a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“He hasn’t known of the existence of his family vaults. I’m assuming he knows nothing about the properties either. If you could give him the run down that would be most appreciated.” Minegruff then strode over to a cart and was off again.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. What is your name?” Harry did not want to keep calling the goblin who controlled his wealth ‘goblin’ in his head.

“Sharpfang,” He smiled evilly, showing off gleaming white teeth that were indeed very sharp.

Sharpfang placed a hand on the door and it slowly opened. Inside the vault there were neat piles of galleons, sickles, and knuts as well as a couple boxes of papers. “Some of the more recent family records.”

Harry shuffled through the papers a bit until he found a small leather bound journal. Opening it up revealed a page titled “Records of James Potter” with a smaller heading in a different colored ink that added “Activities of the Marauders”.

Deciding to save the book for later, Harry exited the room. “Minegruff mentioned estates.”

“Yes, follow me to my office. We can discuss your various properties there.”

One dizzying ride later and Harry was seated in a hard metal chair that was beautifully crafted. “The Potter family owns five properties. A destroyed house in Godric’s Hollow, the Lion’s Manor summer home, the Potter Mansion, a cottage, and a vacation home by the sea. All were cared to by several house elves but I am unaware if any are still alive or the condition of the houses. If you wish I can provide you with a portkey for each location.”

Not quite sure what a portkey was but unwilling to ask Harry accepted, “That would be nice. Am I allowed to use the properties or do I have to wait until I am seventeen?”

“You own them as Heir Potter so you may do with them as you like. Here are the five portkeys, they each have an individual activation phrase as written on this paper. Simply say the phrase and hold onto the appropriate object and you will be teleported there. Only one passenger can come along. The portkeys will last for two weeks, I would suggest getting some item keyed to all locations before they break. Any questions?”

“No, thank you for your time.” Harry rushed back to the Leaky Cauldron, barely remembering to grab something to eat before digging into his textbooks to find out as much as he could about portkeys.

Now knowing more about how the Knight Bus worked, Harry was curious about other transportation. How did portkeys work, could they overheat, how many people could they transport? The Dursleys had always hated when Harry asked questions but he had an almost never ending supply. Maybe now that he wouldn’t be seeing them anymore he could get over that fear and start learning more about his world.

-

Over the next week Harry learned quite a lot. Professor McGonagall had written him back saying that his schedule now included Ancient Runes and informed him of the required materials. Ron and Hermione had promised to come visit him the week before September first. Sharpfang had let him start looking through the records of the Potter family, something Harry was happy to do as it made him feel closer to his family.

He had yet to visit his new properties but was planning on it later that week. Harry continued to experiment with the hair coloring charm until he was quite good at it, his new entertainment was seeing the wildest colors he could turn it. He had gotten several odd looks the day he spelled his hair mustard yellow.

Harry had also acquired quite a large collection of books that he wasn’t sure would fit in his trunk, a necklace with the Potter crest that was a portkey to all five Potter houses, and a fear about how much money he could use. While his school vault had seemed massive as a first year, now it was nearing empty as Harry had to buy his own meals and personal interest items with school money. It was after that first week Harry resolved to find some way to make money. How hard could it be?


	3. Harry for Hire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Child labor laws? What child labor laws?

Apparently, it was very hard to find a job as a thirteen year old with no experience, even if there seemed to be no child labor laws. Almost none of the shops in Diagon Alley were hiring, and those that were wanted adults with specific training in a field. Harry was prepared to search the muggle world for a job as a paper boy if he had to, but his savior arrived in that days evening edition of the Daily Prophet.

Instead of buying a subscription to the Prophet, Harry simply went to their main office and rented out a copy. Maybe when he returned to Hogwarts he would get a subscription, but at the moment he could just walk down the street and find the latest edition.

The only section that Harry was really interested in was the job offerings. Many were useless to him, purebloods looking for subject tutors, charm masters asking for secretaries, and the like. But today one caught his eye.

_ Looking for a well paying job that lets you travel? Join the Knight Bus Crew! Positions open for rune mechanic and navigator. No experience required, we will teach you. Simply flag down the bus to get an interview! _

It was perfect! There was no experience necessary and he liked Stan and Ernie. Harry wondered if they would teach him more about how the bus worked. Maybe if he was good at Ancient Runes he could fix the Knight Bus!

-

Harry stood in front of the Leaky Cauldron, working up the nerve to call the Knight Bus. There was always the chance that they wouldn’t hire a kid, or that they would recognize him.

Harry abruptly stuck out his arm before he could overthink it too much. With a loud screech the Knight Bus rolled to a stop. Stan leapt out of the bus and began to recite a speech before he noticed Harry.

“Hey David! ‘Ow you been? Wasn’t your ‘air red last time? Where we going today?”

“Hi Stan, I’ve been great. I’m practicing with some color changing spells right now. And I’m, um, actually here to ask about the job opening.” Harry nervously dug his finger nails into his palm, hoping that he wouldn’t be laughed off.

Stan beamed and climbed back onto the bus, “Well come on then! Let’s talk.”

Harry clambered up the steps and had barely sat down when the bus rocketed off again. It sped down the London street for a little while before suddenly appearing in the countryside.

“Alright David. I’m assuming you don’t got any experience with runes or navigating?”

“No sir.”

Stan laughed, “Ha! Sir! That’s a good one. We can teach you about that anyways. What year are you heading into at Hogwarts? You taking runes there?”

“I’m going to be a third year. One of my electives will be Ancient Runes. I do know how to drive though, if that helps.” Harry did indeed know how to drive. His Uncle had taken Dudley out driving a couple times and when the neighbors questioned why Harry wasn’t with them, he had been brought along. Vernon wasn’t even too upset about it, claiming that maybe it would ‘make you less freakish’.

Stan looked at Ernie, who just shrugged back. “Driving could be nice. Ernie sometimes needs a break but I’m rubbish at driving. We’d probably need to teach you ‘bout driving a bus though. It’s a bit different than a car.”

“So what hours would I work? And how much would I get paid?” This was very important to know.

“Well, you’ll probably be trained for a week or two without pay. After that it’s the last week before September so we’ll have you on the day shift from nine to five. During the school year you can get special permission to leave at night and work from ten to one. If you’ve got astronomy we can move your time earlier or later. Your starting pay will be two galleons an hour, if you get good at fixing up the bus it’ll be raised to three or four. All that sound good?”

Harry beamed, “Sounds great! How shall I contact you to start my training?”

Ernie answered, “We’ll send you a letter with a time. At that time call the bus and we can start teaching you about it. We’ve got a copy bus for training purposes but it doesn’t have all the magic on it.”

Just then a young woman came down the narrow stairs. Her pale face was covered in freckles and her brown hair was short and fell just above her shoulders. She dumped a pouch of sickles into a small box near Ernie’s feet. She turned and seemed to notice Harry for the first time, “Oh is this one of the potential new hires?”

“Hey Gwennie! This is David Thorin, he’s gonna be a third year an’ he’s interested in joining us.”

“It’s nice to meet you David, I’m Gweneth Ollivander but you can call me Gwen.” Seeing the question on Harry’s lips she smiled, “Yes, the granddaughter of  _that_ Ollivander.”

Harry shook her hand, “It’s nice to meet you. Do you also work on the Knight Bus?”

“Yes, I’m the other conductor. I usually work during the day but Stan and I switch often enough. So, third year, are you excited for Hogwarts?”

Harry’s good mood died, “My family didn’t sign my form. I can’t go.”

“Oh, nonsense!” Stan proclaimed. “Jus’ forge it! Gwennie and I can show you ‘ow, we both ‘ad to do it ourselves.”

“Too true, my father is a squib and he doesn’t really approve of me being a part of the wizarding world. Guess he’s scared he’ll lose me because he got pushed out, but he’s the one pushing me away. Here’s a quill and some parchment to practice with, just sign with purpose.”

Harry took the quill and began to attempt a forgery of his Uncle’s signature but the bus was too bumpy and his writing with a quill wasn’t neat. 

“Oh darling, you’re holding it wrong.” Gwen adjusted his hand position to one that felt much more comfortable, “Try now.”

This time the signatures came out looking okay. Harry was amazed, no one had ever taught him how to hold a quill before so his handwriting was dreadful. “Thank you so much!”

“Oh it’s nothing, if I have all this pureblood lesson nonsense I may as well share it. Are you ready to go back to London now?”

“I think so, how much for the trip?” Harry started to reach into his bag for his money pouch.

Stan stopped his search, “Nothin’, you’re ‘ere for the interview so you don’t ‘ave to pay. The Leaky Cauldron Ern!”

Ernie pulled a lever and the bus jerked forwards and to a halt in front of the Leaky Cauldron. “Here we are. I’m sure we’ll be owling you tomorrow David.”

“Brilliant! Thank you so much, for the job and for helping me forge the signature.”

“No problem, now get out of here!” Stan shouted as Harry descended the steps.

As Harry disappeared into the Leaky Cauldron Gweneth turned to Stan, “He sure looks a lot like Harry Potter, doesn’t he?”

“Hm, yeah. Last time we drove ‘im his hair was red too.”

Ernie started the bus up again, “Well there’s probably a reason that he didn’t tell us his name. Now go get Mrs. Marsh, we’re nearing her stop.”


	4. Lost House and Home

True to his word, Ernie owled Harry the very next day. As the letter instructed, Harry stuck out his arm for the bus at noon. The Knight Bus appeared with its usual bang and Ernie clambered off.

“Y’know, it didn’t used to make that noise. That’s another things that needs fixing. Now come on, I want to teach you as much as I can today. Stan’s driving because Gwen doesn’t know how and I don’t want him to somehow run into something even with the accident free charm.”

The bus started up again and shot off at a much faster speed, weaving dangerously across the road and forcing objects to hop out of the way. Ernie grasped Harry’s arm he suddenly felt as though he were being squeezed through a very small tube.

The pair landed in a small parking lot where another purple triple decker bus was waiting. It had the gold words ‘The Peasant Bus’ written across it. Ernie placed his hand on the side of the bus and Harry felt a brief surge of magic. Getting on, Harry notes with interest that the bus was empty of any beds or seats.

At the front Ernie summoned two pieces of paper. “Sign here and here, if you somehow manage to get yourself injured I don’t want to pay for it.”

Harry quickly signed the papers which were then stuffed into a glovebox. He held onto one of the brass poles as Ernie started up the bus. Ernie gave a brief lecture on the differences between driving a bus and a car as he drove down an empty dirt road with fences on either side. Harry listened attentively and occasionally asked a clarifying question.

He learned that the regular bus had an accident free spell that forced obstacles out of the way as well as a charm that kept it from tipping over. The lever that Ernie pulled to transport the bus to a different location used a store of magic in the bus to fire up some of the spells and work with the runes. Harry was fascinated by the fact that a mini contract was formed between a customer and the bus when they paid for their ride, as well as the fact that this contract could be used to forcibly eject someone from the bus.

Ernie chuckled, “That’s always a fun one to use. It usually happens when some drunk fool gets on and either starts a fight or refuses to get off, then I get to toss them off and they can’t complain about it.”

Eventually Ernie stopped the bus and stood up. “Now it’s your turn David. Start off slow and we’ll see what you can do.”

Nervously, Harry settled himself in the driver’s seat. He switched into the proper gear and began a slow ride down the road. He sped up a little and switched gears, remembering to check his mirrors. The bus was still going relatively slow but was staying on a straight path.

Harry brought the bus to a stop at Ernie’s direction and looked up to see him smiling. Counting the day as a win, Harry gladly exited the bus. Ernie conjured four blocks and carefully drove the bus up onto them before coming out to join Harry.

“The Peasant Bus doesn’t have any of the real enchantments or runes, thus the name, but it does have the same structure. So now I’m going to show you how to fix some of the simple things that go wrong a lot.” Ernie laid down on one of two cushioned boards on wheels that he called creepers.

Harry spent the next two hours learning what all of the tool that Ernie used were called. He was also taught some simple spells that were helpful in cleaning and caring for the bus. “Won’t this set off the trace?”

“Nah, the bus itself has some magic on it and I’m here so the Ministry won’t be able to tell the difference. Screw authority, y’know?” Ernie explained.

Not too fond of the Ministry himself, Harry eagerly went to work. When they finally finished for the day Harry was sweating and completely happy. He never thought that he would enjoy working on a bus in the hot sun but there he was.

Ernie apparated them back to the Leaky Cauldron and waved his farewell from the Knight Bus. Harry fell asleep easier than he had in days, exhausted and pleased with himself.

-

The next several days went in the same manner. He would be given a letter with a time to call the Knight Bus and one of the employees would teach him something about his new job. Ernie taught him more about how to drive and take care of the bus, Stan explained the use of the runes and how to deal with customers, and Gwen taught him about the different spells and how to be a navigator.

There was never a dull moment with the three of them. Each had their own personalities but were all happy to teach Harry and talk about their own family difficulties. They informed them that they had started a betting pool on what color Harry’s hair would be that day and that Gwen almost always won. It was like having a real family.

Then it was Sunday and Harry had a break from training. It was the day that he decided to visit all of his houses. Harry clutched the small gold pendant with the Potter crest imprinted on it and stated, “Potter Mansion” in parseltongue. He had asked for parseltongue passwords, believing them to be more secure and less likely to go off accidentally.

A small blue light emanated from the necklace and Harry was suddenly yanked through the air. His landing was not at all graceful, falling over himself and onto the front step of the mansion. A familiar crack sounded and a small body tackled Harry into a hug.

“Master Potter is back! Master Potter has returned!” The small house elf released Harry and swung into a low bow, “Welcome to Potter Mansion master, my name is Tiffy. I has been caring for the mansion alone, none of the others are left. I am terribly sorry for the state of it!”

“It’s nice to meet you Tiffy. I wasn’t expecting it to be too nice anyways, it’s been years since someone has been here.”

“Almost twelve years! The last time Lord Potter was here was for the funeral, poor Lord and Lady Potter died of dragon pox just after you was being born! And then the funeral of your parents too.” Tiffy’s eyes welled with tears and she sobbed again.

“You served my grandparents? Fleamont and Euphemia?”

“Yes, they was Lord and Lady Potter before your father. They’re buried in the family cemetery. Master’s parents are also buried there. Do you be wishing to visit them?”

Harry held back tears, he had never even known where his parents had been buried. “I think that I’ll visit them tomorrow. I want to be dressed properly for it.”

“Does master be wanting to know the state of the mansion then?”

“Yeah, how bad is it?”

The mansion was primarily built from a red tinted rock that now had Ivy creeping up the sides. Windows were cracked or gone, old gardens were overgrown, and inside the house much of the furniture needed to be replaced and some of the floors restored.

“Alright, start to fix what you can with magic. I have to visit the rest of the houses now.”

After Tiffy said her goodbyes Harry hissed the next location. “Lion Manor.”

Lion Manor was an extravagant place with sprawling lawns, a dilapidated quidditch pitch, and what looked like a wild hippogriff flying overhead. Sadly, there were no surviving house elves to care for it so the Manor was in worse shape than Potter Manor.

The vacation home, Mountain Nest, was a more reasonable sized house made of gray brick with large windows overlooking a valley. There were three house elves at the Mountain Nest, Jozzy, Yarna, and Pelly. It was in nice condition with only a few repairs needed, the interior had a cozy feel and had some moving pictures of various Potters.

Sand Castle was a house close to the sea and a small beach. There was another house elf, Tamo, trying to preserve it. Sadly the exposure to salty air without any protective charms had done quite a bit of damage to the exterior of the home.

The final destination was Godric’s Hollow. Harry had learned that this was where his parents and he had lived before Voldemort found them. The portkey dropped him off in front of a completely destroyed house, windows blown out and walls crumbling, it was a wonder it was still standing. Harry approached a small sign and upon reading the inscription and notes left by other people, broke down.

Here he was at the place he should have grown up in. Loving parents and a beautiful home, maybe even younger siblings, it had all been taken away from him. Why had Voldemort killed the young couple? What reason did the mass murderer have for targeting the house of a young pureblood and his family?

Harry turned and left in search of the town’s cemetery. Another house elf had informed him of public graves for his parents as well as a memorial. He was too scared to approach his parents’ real graves but maybe he could see their public ones.

There it was. Statues of a young man and woman and a baby, smiling and content. Harry reached out a hand to touch his mother’s cheek, “I miss you mum, dad. I wish that you were here.”

Harry went to sit at the base of the memorial but was surprised to find the space was already occupied. A skinny Siamese haired cat was cuddled up at the legs of his father’s statue. Harry crouched down and extended a careful hand towards it, he had always liked cats even if Mrs Figg’s hadn’t cared for him.

The cat blinked its bright blue eyes at Harry and sniffed his hand experimentally. It then rubbed its face against his hand. Harry smiled and gave it a few scratches behind the ear, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a home to go back to?”

“Actually she doesn’t.”

Harry spun around in surprise, pulling his wand out on instinct. An elderly woman stood a few paces away, smiling pleasantly. “Hello Harry dear.”

“Who are you?” Harry only lowered his wand slightly as the old woman shuffled closer.

“My name is Bathilda Bagshot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to keep a small buffer of chapters so I don’t run out of content to post. Chapters will hopefully be once a week but that could change since I don’t have a schedule.   
> Next time: Harry learns that he one family member left...


	5. Insanity in the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns about his only living family member. He can’t help but feel cheated out of a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Bathilda! Also, Harry learns who Sirius is and continues working on the Knight Bus.

Bathilda Bagshot smiled wider as Harry tried to place where he had heard the name. “The author of your history textbook. I live here, and I knew your parents too. This is Lucy, their cat.”

“My parents had a cat?” Harry put his wand away, blown away by such a simple piece of information.

Bathilda Bagshot nodded, “She was out of the house and in the garden that fateful night. She survived but refuses to be taken in by anyone else. I feed her and let her in my house during the colder months but she mostly stays here, at the memorial. Why don’t you bring her with you to my house for some tea, you must have questions.”

Harry scooped up the cat, Lucy, and followed Bathilda to her home. It was small and filled with books, the kind of house that Hermione would have loved. The two took a seat at a small table, Lucy settled in Harry’s lap. Bathilda poured out two cups of tea and Harry added sugar before taking a sip. “So how did you know my parents?”

“I’ve lived in Godric’s Hollow for most of my life, I’ve seen all manner of magical children grow up, including Dumbledore himself! Your parents moved here shortly after they learned that Voldemort was searching for them. I met with them several times and even babysat you once or twice before they went completely into hiding and I couldn’t even see their house anymore.” Bathilda sipped her tea, looking closely at Harry’s scar.

Harry stroked Lucy’s pale fur, “Can you tell me about them?”

“Your mother was a kind woman, she was patient to a point but then she had a vicious temper. If I remember correctly she was quite gifted in charms and potions and wanted to get a mastery in charms. On the other hand your father was fun loving but a bit protective of people he considered family. He loved transfiguration and quidditch, he was considering joining a professional team for a few years after the war. Before they went into complete hiding he was practically inseparable from his three friends. Lily once joked that she had married all four of them. The five of them were quite a group, always joking around and having fun, trying to bring light in those dark times.”

“Who were the three friends? Are they alive?” If there were people that his parents had been friends with then he wanted to find a way to contact them.

Bathilda paused for a moment, “I believe that two of them are alive. Peter Pettigrew is dead. Remus Lupin is alive to my knowledge.”

“And who’s the third?” Harry asked eagerly.

“Promise me that you won’t get too angry or do anything rash,” Bathilda’s tone was serious.

Harry barely even thought before replying, two of his parents’ friends were alive! “I promise.”

“Sirius Black.”

Harry froze, staring at Bathilda in shock. “Sirius? Sirius  _ Black _ ? Sirius Black as in the  _ mass murderer who killed Peter Pettigrew _ ?”

“Yes, that Sirius Black. James and him were inseparable. It was such a surprise to all us that knew Sirius, he was the first Black to ever be sorted into Gryffindor and he hated his family. At one point he was disowned by his family and ran away, only after he was sentenced to Azkaban did his family add him back in.” Bathilda looked truly regretful, she had seen such potential in him.

Harry’s grip tightened on his teacup, “So my father’s best friend was a death eater? And he killed his other best friend?”

“I’m afraid so. And Harry dear, there’s more,” Bathilda placed a wrinkled hand on top of Harry’s own. “He was named your godfather.”

“Wait, what! I have a death eater godfather? Why did no one tell me, I didn’t even know that I had a godfather!” The poor teacup was in danger of shattering now.

Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair, the original red color in honor of visiting his parents, and failed to stop tears from leaking out. “Why did no one tell me?” He whispered sadly.

“Accio calming drought! I’m terribly sorry dear, everybody probably thought that it was for the best that you didn’t know. They might have thought that you would try to seek out Sirius and get yourself killed.” Bathilda poured the potion into his remaining tea and urged him to drink it.

After drinking the potion laced tea Harry felt considerably calmer. “I suppose that they thought they knew what was best for me. But still, I had a right to know. Now I just can’t help but feel upset that I was never told about Sirius. Thank you for talking to me, but I think that I should go now.”

“Anytime dear, just send me an owl and we can have tea again. I have many stories for you to hear.” Bathilda led him to the door, “Oh, would you consider taking Lucy? She’s been alone for so long, she was just a kitten before but now that she’s older I’m afraid she won’t live too long without proper care.”

“Of course, she’s family.” Harry picked up the skinny cat and stepped outside, “Thank you for telling me about my parents, and Sirius.”

“You’re welcome Harry dear, now be on your way.”

-

Harry didn’t remember portkeying back to the Leaky Cauldron. He also didn’t remember buying a litter box and thin black leather collar. He only remembered falling asleep with Lucy curled up on his chest, purring away.

Harry spent the next morning pouring over his father’s journal. It was the first time that he had looked at it and now it explained a lot. His father and his best friends had had nicknames, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, based on their animagus forms and the fact that Remus was a werewolf. Harry considered owling the Ministry that Sirius was an animagus but figured that they probably already knew.

For the next several hours Harry read of grand adventures and disaster pranks and failed attempts to woo Lily Evans. He shoved the fact that Sirius was a traitor to the back of his mind and allowed himself to enjoy stories of his father’s school days. In fact, he was only pulled from his reading when an owl tapped at the window.

It was the last week of the summer holidays and Ron and Hermione had promised that they would visit sometime that week. Peeling open the letter Harry was pleased to read that they would both be arriving on the last day of August and staying overnight to go to King’s cross Station with Harry.

A second owl flew through the still open window and deposited another letter. Harry immediately recognized it as from an employee of the Knight Bus because of the bright purple wax used to seal it. If possible, Harry’s smile got even wider. This week he would be working for real. Granted, he would only be navigator at first and do some minor touch ups on the runes, but still. He was excited, the Knight Bus employees had become something like a family to him.

Harry scribbled a reply to Ron and tied it to Errol’s leg.

Lucy watched the elderly owl with hungry eyes as it flew away again. Harry set down small bowls of food and water for her before striking out of his room. Ernie had wanted him to start working as soon as possible. Harry spelled his hair purple in honor of the occasion and stopped at the street.

Now accustomed to it, Harry stuck out his hand into the street and flagged down the violently purple bus. He clambered on without waiting for Gwen and made his way to the front. Harry sat in the seat next to a large map and pulled out his wand.

“Next stop, Amesbury in Wiltshire.” Gwen walked down the aisle and informed Harry. “Ernie, you owe me a galleon, I told you he would do purple.”

Chucking, Harry quickly repeated the name and tapped the map. A small white glowing dot appeared at the destination. There were several other dots on the map that were also listed at the side. Harry used his wand to rearrange the order of the locations so those closest together would go first.

When a man who looked a little green in the face stepped off the bus Harry tapped the Amesbury dot and it faded away and disappeared from the list. The bus continued on for a few more minutes before making the next jump. The process continued until a blue dot started to glow. Harry rattled off the address and a new passenger boarded. Gwen collected their money and destination and Harry added it to the map.

His job continued in that manner for the rest of the week. The work was soothing and Harry enjoyed the scenery as well as people watching. There was a wide variety of people riding the Knight Bus, from disheveled looking wizards to clearly pure blooded witches in fancy robes. Once Harry swore that he saw a banshee wearing a thick balaclava board.

By the time that it was finally Tuesday, Harry was ready to see his friends. He had gotten the day off from work and had collected his weekly wages. Harry spelled his hair an obnoxious bubblegum pink with random light blue highlights and set off into Diagon Alley. He was certain that he would be better than even Hermione at this spell if she tried it. Harry ignored all of the odd looks and made his way to the bookshop that Hermione would inevitably gravitate towards.


	6. Screams of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never trust me when I talk about updating regularly, I’m a filthy liar. Sorry about the lack of updates, I was pretty stressed. Good news though! I’m writing this story for Camp NaNoWriMo so there will be more chapters to come.
> 
> Some notes about Harry’s characterization: He is less trusting of adults than in canon because he learns that they keep information from him. He is also more secretive/private when it comes to knowledge about his family or heirlooms. He just wants a part of his parents all to himself.  
> Canon event change: Lucius Malfoy did not try to kill Harry at the end of CoS. I always thought that was kind of stupid and out of place, especially since he’s supposed to be a politically smart Slytherin. All he did was some threatening like ‘how dare you’ ‘never try to embarrass me abain’ ‘blah blah blah’

Harry was perusing the titles having to do with runes when he was violently tackled. He caught a glimpse of bushy brown hair and a ginger boy standing just behind her. “I missed you too Hermione. How are you Ron?”

“I’m well enough mate, what’s with the hair though?” Ron needlessly pointed at Harry’s pink and blue locks.

Harry shrugged, “It started with using a hair color changing charm to disguise myself when in public but now it’s just fun. You should’ve seen it when it was orange, I looked like a Chudley Cannons fanatic.”

“Brilliant,” Ron laughed.

“Oh Harry, that’s terribly difficult magic! We won’t even be learning human transfiguration until sixth year,” Hermione looked rather impressed which made Harry feel proud. If Hermione thought it was impressive than it was worth being proud of.

“It wasn’t really that hard. It’s a spell similar to Colovaria and Crinus Muto, but it only works to change hair color and has no other uses. I’ve had loads of practice with it and thought it seemed like more of a charm than a transfiguration.”

“Oh it’s definitely a transfiguration, because you’ve actually changed the color and not just spelled it to look a different color.” 

Before Hermione could carry on with her detailed explanation, Ron cut her off. “So what are you doing in here Harry? You said you’ve got all of your books already.”

Harry blushed slightly, “Well, I’ve gotten a lot more into reading this summer. It started with runes but I’m just so curious about everything. I’ve bought an expandable trunk just so I can bring all of my books with me now.”

Hermione looked absolutely delighted, “See Ron! Harry gets it. We both grew up in the muggle world so it’s only natural to want to know more about the wizarding one.”

“Or now I’ve just got two bonkers friends,” Ron muttered. He seemed rather put out at the prospect of both of his friends being bookworms.

“Anyways, since my birthday is coming up my parents gave me ten galleons to get myself a present with. I really want to get a pet, probably an owl since they’re the most useful,” Hermione trailed off.

Harry smiled brightly, “Well I definitely know my way around Diagon Alley now. There’s a magical pet shop called Magical Menagerie just down the street.”

“I think I’ll and see if they have anything for Scabbers too. Ever since we came back from Egypt he’s been looking sick.” Ron held up Scabbers, who was indeed looking rather skinny.

The trio left the bookshop after buying Ron and Hermione’s various schoolbooks and a book on house elves for Harry. Magical Menagerie was a cluttered shop filled with cages and animals of all types. A thick scent hung in the air that no cleaning charm seemed to be able to get rid of.

Ron moved towards the front counter and began discussing rats, Hermione examined various owls, and Harry gravitated towards the back of the shop. Lining the back wall were animals that may have been called unsavory or creepy. A rabbit with no fur and see through skin, a turtle that had two heads, a lizard with vicious looking spikes, and a snake with a cage that read ‘extremely venomous’.

A yell of surprise and pain interrupted Harry’s browsing. He whipped around to see something ginger on Ron’s head that almost certainly wasn’t his hair. Scabbers leaped out of Ron’s hands and made a run for the door. Ron dashed out the door and the large cat, for that’s what the ginger thing was, fell to the floor. Scabbers was out the door with Ron in pursuit and another customer grabbed the cat while the owner moaned, “Crookshanks no!”

Harry quickly exited the shop to try and help Ron capture the old rat but found that he was already cornered. Harry stepped back into the shop just in time to hear Hermione making a purchase.

“It’s such a shame that nobody has wanted him, he’s beautiful! How much for him, some food, and a carrier?”

“Only ten galleons since he’s been here so long, I’ll go get him into a carrier while you pick out a collar.” The owner looked quite relieved that Hermione was buying whatever she was.

“Hey Hermione, what did you decide on?”

Hermione looked up from the wide selection of collars for all sorts of pets, “A cat! I’m getting that poor one that landed on Ron, he’s been stuck here for ages and I can’t not get him.”

Hermione grabbed a thin red collar and the owner returned with a covered basket. “Here you go miss, and your friend’s rat tonic as well.”

Beaming, Hermione took the basket and bottle. She opened the lid for Harry to see inside and a grumpy head poked out.

“I guess we’ve both got half kneazles now,” Harry said after examining the cat’s squashed face.

They left the shop to find Ron again and Hermione asked, “What’s a kneazle? I haven’t heard of them.”

To prevent a full on search of the nearest bookstore, Harry replied, “A type of magical cat. They can be cross bred with normal cats, they’re unusually intelligent and have long ears and tufted tails. I could tell that he’s part kneazle because of his ears.”

Hermione looked at Crookshanks who did indeed have longer than average ears with slight tufts. “You really have been reading a lot this summer, haven’t you?”

“It seems silly not to. At first I was just so amazed that I didn’t want to learn how any of it worked, but now I know that it’s not all perfect so I’m interested in learning how it all works.”

Ron, now clutching a quivering Scabbers, came up to them. “Don’t tell me you bought that beast!”

“Don’t call Crookshanks a beast Ronald. He’s very smart and handsome, aren’t you Crookshanks?” The cat in question began to purr while keeping its gaze on Ron and the trembling rat.

“It tried to kill Scabbers!” Ron protested, “He needs relaxation, not that monster.”

Hermione glared at Ron and handed him a bottle, “You forgot your rat tonic. And besides, Crookshanks will be in my dorm and Scabbers in yours. You didn’t have any problem with Harry getting a cat.”

Harry sputtered and tried to stay out of the argument, “I didn’t really have a choice. Lucy was my parents cat.”

“And she hasn’t tried to kill Scabbers,” Ron added triumphantly.

“Yet,” Hermione stated plainly. “She’s a cat, it’s what they do. Cats were bred to hunt mice and rats.”

The argument continued all the way back to the Leaky Cauldron where Harry finally ended it. “Do you lot want to meet Lucy?”

They both immediately agreed. Crookshanks was set down and Lucy strutted over to sniff him. Ron sat down on Harry’s bed, a firm grip on Scabbers, and reached out his hand to Lucy.

Lucy rubbed Ron’s hand before jumping onto the bed to get a closer look at Scabbers. She stalked closer, head tilted slightly as if confused. Lucy let out a chittering meow and touched Scabbers with a paw. The rat let out a squeak and Lucy backed off and hissed, seemingly bewildered.

Ron defensively put Scabbers into his pocket, “Both your cats are barmy. Poor Scabbers is stressed enough already.”

Harry quietly thought to himself that Ron had never really cared for the rat. Like everything Ron owned, Scabbers was a hand me down and Ron seemed resentful that he got a rat instead of an owl. Harry didn’t blame him for this at all, but thought his sudden 180 was amusing.

-

Later that night, Harry snuck downstairs to call the Knight Bus when he overheard his name be shouted. He paused outside of a door and listened, the sound of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley drifting out.

“-happy not knowing! He’ll be safe at Hogwarts and he won’t have to know!” Mrs. Weasley shouted.

“He needs to be on his guard, you know what he and Ron are like. Always sneaking off and getting into trouble, but they can’t do that this year, not when Black is after him.” Mr. Weasley argued back.

“You’ll terrify him. Just tell him to be careful, he has stayed in Diagon Alley all month so he clearly understands the danger. Besides, Hogwarts will be guarded by dementors.”

Mr. Weasley scoffed.

“What’s wrong with the dementors? Dumbledore allowed them to be at Hogwarts.”

“Dumbledore didn’t really have a choice, the Ministry forced him to accept help. Fudge is terrified that Harry will get hurt but refuses to tell him anything. The Azkaban guards are awful creatures that shouldn’t be near a school.”

“But if they protect Harry,” Mrs. Weasley added.

“Then I’ll never say anything against them again.” After Mr. Weasley spoke there was a short pause before there was shuffling around.

Harry drifted away from the doorway, trying to think through what he had heard. So Sirius Black, his murderous godfather, was after him. Harry honestly wasn’t too surprised by that, he was more surprised that the Weasleys thought that he and Ron and Hermione snuck off and got into trouble  on purpose. What Harry wouldn’t give for a normal year at school!

Harry stopped his musing as he stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and stuck out his arm. A wonderfully familiar purple bus appeared and Stan leaned out and tossed Harry his uniform. Clambering on board, Harry quickly changed into the vibrant purple clothes in the bathroom before sitting down at his spot by the map.

When there was finally a lull in stops Harry gathered some courage and asked, “What’s a dementor? It’s just, I’m going back to Hogwarts tomorrow and I overheard that they’ll be there guarding the castle.”

Ernie shivered in his seat and nearly hit a lamppost that jumped out of the way, “Terrifying things,” was his cryptic answer.

Stan gave a more complete answer, “They’re ‘orrible monsters, they are. Strange creatures that wear black cloaks and feed off of despair and live in Azkaban. Maybe they’ll guard ‘Ogwarts, or maybe they’ll go after the students. Can’t really control them, but the Ministry tries anyways.”

Ernie scoffed at the mention of the Ministry of Magic and took a rather violent turn. “Just stay away from them as best you can, if they feel like it they can suck out your soul with a kiss. Ministry’s bloody insane to put them near children but when has the Ministry ever cared about that anyways.”

Harry silently agreed with Ernie, the Ministry hadn’t stepped in last year until several children were petrified. Even then, it had to be Lucius Malfoy who attempted to fix it, even if he only removed Dumbledore from office. Lucius Malfoy had so far seemed to be as awful as his son, he had slipped Ginny Voldemort’s diary and threatened Harry at the end of his second year.

The talk of dementors was stopped by the bus being flagged down again. A gang of giggling teenage girls who were clearly drunk stumbled aboard. After Stan finally managed to extract a location and money from them, they started to coo over Harry.

“You are so adorable! You must be in your early years at Hogwarts,” The first girl laughed as if this were incredibly funny.

Another one touched his hair, currently transfigured a dark green, “So pretty,” She whispered in awe. “Can you make my hair pretty too?”

“Sure, um, what color do you want?” Harry felt incredibly awkward, surrounded by four girls who barely recognized their surroundings.

“Oh I want purple! And Fredericka here wants blue.” The second girl patted the shoulder of a third, who looked barely conscious.

Harry quickly transfigured their hair and they gasped with delight, “You’re such a wizard!”

Chuckling uncomfortably Harry responded, “Well, I am a wizard.”

Stan then interrupted, “Alright ladies, leave ‘im be. ‘e needs to get to work. But if you want, you can talk to me.”

Stan winked at Harry before drawing the girls into a conversation about their favorite magical creatures. Harry fiddled with the map and added the newest destination to the route. He glanced at Stan again and found him delicately braiding the hair of one of the girls with a sad, wistful look on his face.

When the girls exited the bus they each left Stan with a kiss on the cheek and giggled to themselves as he turned red. He waved to them as the bus shot off into the night again. “Drunk girls are so nice,” He laughed and went to collect the next person.

When Harry reached the end of his short shift and changed back into everyday robes Ernie handed him a letter. “This is a letter asking permission for you to leave each night for work purposes. I’ve already signed it so all you have to do is sign your name and send it off to your deputy headmistress, she’s the one who processes requests like these.”

“Thank you so much!” Harry quickly grabbed the quill at the front of the bus and signed his name in purple ink. He then held it close to his chest and under his neatly folded uniform as he exited the bus so that Stan and Ernie would not see what name he had written.

“So when you think ‘e’ll tell us?” Stan asked Ernie.

Ernie shrugged, “When he’s ready.”

-

The next morning was chaotic. Trunks were packed last minute, badges were shined, Scabbers retrieved from his hiding place in a trash can, and hugs were given. But before Harry could board the train, Mr. Weasley pulled him to the side.

“Now, Harry, you must promise me that you’ll stay out of trouble this year.”

“I’ll try Mr. Weasley, but usually trouble finds me anyways.” It wasn’t like Harry really wanted to save the stone or get impaled by a basilisk, but things happened!

Mr. Weasley shifted uncomfortably at this and Mrs. Weasley shouted for time to hurry up. “You have to be extra careful this year, Black is-“

“I know, after me.” At Mr. Weasley’s surprised face be quickly explained, “I was going downstairs last night and I, uh, overheard you.”

Mr. Weasley frowned, “That’s not exactly the way I wanted you to find out, but anyways. Just, promise me Harry, that you won’t go looking for Black.”

“Why would I go looking for a murderer, especially one who wants to kill me?” Here! If Mr. Weasley knew that Sirius was his godfather he could explain it to Harry, let him know about the only magical family he had left.

Mr. Weasley averted his eyes rather guiltily, “Just promise, that no matter what you hear, you won’t look for Black.”

Harry felt a stab of anger and sadness, why would people keep his family from him? It was his right to know, even if said family was a death eater and a traitor. “Alright, I won’t go looking for him.”

Mr. Weasley breathed a sigh of relief and let Harry go to the train. Climbing aboard, he tried to push away his bitterness. Mr. Weasley was just trying to protect him. Why would he want to know about his mass murderer godfather? Because all that Harry had ever wanted was a family, and there was a man that was his  _real_ family. Ron and Hermione were wonderful, but they were his friends and more like siblings, definitely not a father figure.

Ron and Hermione and Ginny were waiting for him on the train. Hermione asked, “Harry, where have you been? Almost all of the compartments are full now.”

“Sorry, your dad wanted to talk to me.” At their questioning looks he replied, “I’ll tell you in private, once we get a compartment.”

“Alright Ginny, go on then,” Ron pointed down the train.

Ginny huffed, “That’s rude. Harry didn’t tell me to leave.”

Despite her complaining, Ginny set off down the train, muttering something about making sure ‘Luna’ wasn’t being bothered. Harry felt a bit bad for her, he didn’t particularly mind her listening to what Harry had to say. She had stopped the blushing nonsense after he had saved her and he was forever grateful for that.

The train was completely full, except for the compartment at the very end. There was just one sleeping man, scarred and young looking despite his various scars and somehow  _familiar_ . Maybe he was in a book Harry had read, he looked scarred enough to be some kind of auror or have fought in the war.

“So what did you want to tell us Harry?” Hermione set down the basket with Crookshanks on the seat.

“Wait a minute, who’s that?” Ron was eyeing the oddly familiar man. Harry himself was observing him, trying to place him from some distant memory.

Hermione huffed, “Professor R. J. Lupin.”

Ron’s jaw dropped, “How did you know that?”

“Honestly Ronald, it’s on his luggage.”

Harry ignored his friends’ bickering in favor of gaping at the man. Remus Lupin, the werewolf his father befriended, one of the famous ‘Marauders’, and the only living and sane person who knew his father closely. Upon closer inspection, he did bear a striking resemblance to the teenager in some of his father’s old moving pictures and Harry vaguely remembered a picture of their wedding where a scarred man stood beside another with long black hair.

“So Harry, what did you want to tell us?” Hermione prodded again.

Harry forced himself to look away from Remus, “Oh, right. You know how I always get into trouble? This year I’m being hunted by mass murderer Sirius Black.”

They gaped at him. “I s’pose I could have said that better. Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban to find and most likely kill me, all of the adults want me to be extra careful. And I will be!”

Ron finally spoke, “You’ve got Sirius Black after you. Blimey mate, you really do attract trouble.”

Ron and Harry laughed while Hermione sighed, “Honestly you two, it’s not funny! It’s, well, serious!”

“Of course it’s serious Hermione, I don’t particularly want to die this year. But I should be safe at Hogwarts, they’ve got the Azkaban guards stationed there. I just want to have fun this year, go to Hogsmeade and enjoy my new classes. So can you just drop it for now?” Harry pleaded.

The topic did eventually shift to other subjects. Crookshanks emerged from his basket and played with a small cat toy that he and Lucy batted back and forth. They kept eyeing Scabbers who Ron had protectively clutched in his arms. It was just getting dark when Harry left the compartment to get changed into his school robes.

Before heading back, Harry decided to try and figure out if the train worked similarly to the Knight Bus. At the very front of the train there was an employees only door that led to the driver. Disappointed, Harry left the door behind. Breaking through the door probably wouldn’t be the best way to start his third year.

As Harry began the long trek back to his compartment, he felt the air suddenly get colder. Harry looked around for some other student casting a spell but only saw a black shape fluttering past the window. A deep feeling of unease settled itself directly in Harry’s gut and he broke off into a jog and the temperature dropped.

Harry finally flung himself into the compartment as the train slowed to a stop, nearly landing on Neville, who had sat down at some point. “Harry, what’s going on out there? It got all cold so I can to find you guys with Ginny.”

Ginny looked a little pale and she had Lucy stretched out across her lap. Ron and Hermione were also looking curious and Remus was still asleep. “There were some weird black shapes outside, I couldn’t really see since it’s dark out.”

Ron gasped, “Dementors. Dad said that they make everything feel cold.”

“Why would they be on the train though? That doesn’t make any sense, do they think Sirius Black is on it?” Hermione seemed a little frightened, possibly by not knowing a lot about dementors.

The lights suddenly flickered out and Neville whimpered. There was a slow creaking as the compartment door slid open. A skeletal hand covered in what looked to be rotting flesh reached inside. The air felt like ice and a deep inhale from the dementor made Harry feel like he had fallen into a frozen lake. Suddenly, a hoarse voice was talking but all Harry could hear was screaming.

“Please, not Harry!” Harry tried to move, to see who was screaming his name, but all he saw was darkness and his body wouldn’t respond to him.

There was a brilliant burst of white light and the cold feeling receded. Harry’s eyes flew open to see the worried face of Remus crouched over him. “Are you alright Harry?”

“Who was screaming?” At the confused faces Harry pulled himself up, “I heard someone screaming and saying my name.”

“None of us heard screaming Harry,” Hermione looked a bit worried.

Harry frowned and decided to ponder that later, “Alright then. Why was I on the floor?”

“You slid off your seat. It was a bit scary, everything got all cold and miserable and then you fell off the seat.” Ron explained shakily.

A loud snapping sound interrupted Ron. They all turned towards the noise, which was Remus cracking a large chocolate bar. He handed the biggest piece to Harry, “Eat this, it will make you feel better.”

“Um, why?”

“It helps stimulate your brain into producing chemicals again so you’ll stop feeling miserable. Now, I have to go speak with the driver. Make sure to eat all of it.” Remus hurried out of the compartment, eyes lingering slightly on Harry.

Harry bit off a bit of chocolate, swallowing it he did feel a bit better. “So, none of you fell off your seats?”

“No, Ginny felt a bit sick though.” Ron pointed to Ginny, who was pale and shaking. Harry felt bad for her as her face looked quite terrified. Neville was also pale but he was just gripping his chocolate tightly and staring out the window.

The small group finished their chocolate in silence. Lucy had migrated from Ginny to Harry’s lap and curled up. Remus eventually returned, “We’ll be arriving at Hogwarts in just a few minutes. Harry, if you would talk with me in private?”

Harry stood up, moving Lucy to his arms, and exited the compartment. Lucy meowed in delight and leaped into Remus’s arms. “Hello Lucifer, it’s been awhile hasn’t it?”

Harry choked back a laugh, “Lucifer? I thought her name was Lucy.”

“Oh no, she was quite the devil as a kitten. Her nickname was Lucy.” Remus’s voice sobered up, “I thought that she died that night. Which brings me to what I wanted to speak with you about. Firstly, are you alright? Dementors are awful in general, and even worse for those who have suffered a lot.”

“I’m okay now. The chocolate helped.” Harry found that he didn’t know what to say in the face of his father’s friend. This was a man who knew his parents, who could tell Harry about them.

“Good, good.” Remus then waved his wand and cast some spell that had no visible effects, “You may not know this, but I knew your parents.”

“I know, I found an old journal of my dad’s, and I talked to Bathilda Bagshot. So I know about you and what you are, and that you were friends with my dad.” Harry decided that maybe, just maybe, if he revealed what he knew to an adult that they would trust him with more information.

Remus gave him a sad smile, “Yes, I remember that journal quite well. I’m assuming then, that you what you mean is you know I am a werewolf.”

“Yes, though I don’t see the big deal.”

Remus’s face relaxed slightly and he let out a soft chuckle, “You are very much like your father. He said the same thing to me when he found out. Now, I’m guessing you have lots of questions for me and I’ll do my best to answer them. Once we’re back at Hogwarts you can find my office when you want to talk and I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you so much! I’ll definitely do that sir.”

“No need to call me sir, Remus is fine when we’re in private.” Remus waved his wand again and then opened the compartment door. Ron and Hermione scrambled back, they had clearly been trying to listen in on the conversation.

“I’ll be going to talk to the driver now and probably won’t come back, so stay in the compartment. Harry, Neville, and Ginny, you should go see Madame Pomfrey before the feast so she can make sure you’re alright.” As Remus left Harry briefly wondered how he knew Neville and Ginny’s names. 

There was uneasy silence as everyone nibbled on their chocolate. Neville attempted to bring up the topic of new classes but the conversation soon sputtered out, not even Hermione was in the mood to discuss school.

As soon as the train stopped the small group of five rushed off the train. A long line of carriages was waiting, and for just a second Harry swore he saw the outline of horses pulling them. The horses didn’t appear again and Ron, Harry, and Hermione managed to clamber into a horseless carriage of their own as Ginny and Neville split away from them.

The ride up to the castle was mostly quiet, Ron and Hermione were conversing in low voices as Harry rested his head against the side of the carriage. He couldn’t get the sound of the woman screaming out of his head, the begging and pleading to save Harry. But who was it? Harry had certainly never heard the voice before, and nobody had ever tried to protect him like that except...

Oh. Lily Potter. Harry’s mother had given her life trying to protect him. Harry turned his head so that his friends wouldn’t notice the tears in his eyes. The first time hearing his mother’s voice, and it was from the embodiment of hopelessness and despair.

The thought followed Harry all the way to the hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey praised Remus’s knowledge of healing and Professor McGonagall took Hermione aside to talk in private. When McGonagall returned she gave Harry a slip of parchment that detailed his ability to leave Hogwarts and exit through the front doors. McGonagall left him to Madame Pomfrey’s clutches after explaining that the paper worked like a key. After giving Harry strict orders to eat something very sugary during the feast, Madame Pomfrey finally released him just in time to see the first years be led in. 

Harry wondered if he would ever get a normal school year. At least, as normal as a magical boarding school could get. As he watched first years take their places he decided that the answer was most likely a resounding no.


	7. Death Omens and Disturbing Snape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Classes begin at Hogwarts, Harry is threatened by sheep made out of leaves and discovers his new favorite subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Space out your chapters so you don’t post them all. Write more plot and flesh out characters.  
> Also me: Hhhh I wanna know what people think, wanna write nerdy stuff about fake magic subjects.  
> Camp NaNo is going well and I’ll be updating closer together. I also added to the story that there are 27 planned chapters. I’m starting nine right now but it’s alllll planned out for once in my writing life.

Harry’s first class of the school year was Divination. Maybe if he had listened more carefully to the advice of older students last year he could have predicted that the class was rubbish.

After debating with Hermione about her impossible schedule and nearly being late to class, the trio finally took their seats in the stifling classroom. The lesson started as expected for the most part, reading tea leaves and some simple but possibly true predictions from their odd Professor. But as the lesson progressed and Professor Trelawney kept waxing on about the inner eye and inevitable doom, Harry felt as though he had made a mistake.

Professor Trelawney swooped by the table, shawls billowing and beaded necklaces clanking together. “Oh my dears, let me examine your cups.”

She then grabbed Harry’s teacup and almost fainted upon examining it. Harry and Hermione exchanged a look as she ranted about the Grim, omen of death. Ron looked properly terrified but Harry found that after being threatened with death so many times it wasn’t as effective from some wet leaves. He had also heard her predict tragedy for three separate students, which lowered her credibility in his eyes.

“So Ron,” Harry asked as they exited the classroom, “Is the Grim a real thing or was she just spouting rubbish?”

“Oh it’s definitely real.” Harry paled slightly, maybe he _should_ be worried. “My uncle Bilius saw one and he died the very next day! Harry this is serious, have you seen any spectral black dogs?”

Harry’s mind drifted back to the night he left the Dursleys. Right before he had summoned the Knight Bus he had seen something. “Maybe? It was dark out so I couldn’t really see anything. It was just some dark shape in the bushes with bright eyes. I don’t even know if it was a dog, it could have been one of Mrs. Figg’s cats out hunting.”

Ron paled, “If that was a Grim...”

“Then Harry will be perfectly fine. Honestly, Divination seems rather imprecise to me,” Hermione huffed and shoved her book further into her bulging bag.

“My uncle died! And right after he saw a Grim! It happens to lots of wizards, they see a large black dog and then they die!”

“Well there you go, the Grim causes people to die of fright. It’s not an omen, it’s a cause of death. Harry isn’t dead because he’s not stupid enough to be scared of something that may or may not have been a Grim and die.” 

Harry thought that this logic was rather flawed as simply seeing a black dog probably wouldn’t cause somebody to die of fright. In a world of magic, omens could definitely be a real thing. The dog in the tea leaves that looked more like a sheep though, that may not be real.

Upon sitting down in Transfiguration Harry noticed a clear divide between the students that had also come from Divination. The magic raised students were staying clear of Harry and whispering to themselves while the muggleborns or half-bloods raised with muggle influence were making jokes about his predicted death. Most of their fears were laid to rest after Professor McGonagall informed them that Trelawney always predicted a death and had thus far always been wrong. Harry just hoped that his bad luck wouldn’t make her have her first correct prediction.

-

After a very exciting day back at Hogwarts, including death omens and Malfoy getting attacked by a hippogriff, Harry was looking forward to his last class of the day, Ancient Runes. Hermione, who had not been to Ancient Runes that day, assured him that it was a great class as she rushed off to Muggle Studies.

Harry arrived just a few minutes early to class and looked around. Most of the class seemed to be there but it was still quite small, there were a few students that he vaguely recognized from each house but no other Gryffindors. A girl who looked identical to Parvati but in Ravenclaw robes was sitting alone at a table next to some others from her house. Recognizing Padma, Harry decided that she would most likely be his best bet.

“Can I sit with you?” Padma looked up, surprise written on her face.

“Oh, of course. Here, let me move my bag.” She grabbed her bag, which seemed to be almost as full as Hermione’s, and allowed Harry to sit down.

Before Harry could strike up a conversation, Professor Babbling strode into the room. She was a tall witch with sharp features dressed in fine dark blue robes that had silver runes embroidered along the hem. “Welcome to the Study Of Ancient Runes. Since it isn’t a subject commonly known about, I will spend the first class explaining what we will be learning and showing demonstrations.

“There are different types of runes just as there are different languages, this is because magical runes evolved from runic languages as a way to more easily access magic. We will start with purely wizarding created runes that are more modern before moving onto Germanic Runes and eventually hieroglyphs, the ‘ancient’ part of the course will be focused on after we learn the basics of the safe and modern runes.

“Now, what are the uses of runes? Can anyone tell me?” A brief glance around the room revealed just one other hand raised.

Harry tentatively put up his hand. “Yes, Mr. Potter?”

“Runes can be used to power spells for a longer time than wand cast spells,” Harry remembered this from what Stan had told him and prayed that it was an acceptable answer. He wasn’t usually the type to raise his hand in class.

“Correct,” Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “Magical runes can be organized in such a way that they interact with each other to create a desired effect. As you can see on my robes, there are quite a few required runes for even something as simple as stain resistant fabric.

“It takes years of hard work and mastery of the subject to make your own complicated rune spells. Eventually I will have practical classes where we go to a room with sufficient safety charms for you to practice casting simple rune spells that aren’t dangerous or susceptible to malfunctioning. But for the first two months you will simply focus on translating. If I ever catch you attempting to use runes outside of class and without express permission or supervision I hold the right to kick you out of my class. Is that understood?”

Everybody quickly nodded their heads. Harry’s hand was starting to cramp from scribbling down so many notes and he silently thanked Gwen for teaching him how to hold a quill properly.

“Some of you may be thinking, why don’t we use runes for everything if they’re so powerful? Can anyone explain?”

The same Slytherin who had their hand up before- was it Theodore?- answered in a quiet voice, “Runes take lots of power to last a long time and are complex to make and maintain. They are better for long term protections or enchantments rather than everyday use. Wand spells are much faster.”

As Professor Babbling agreed and went further into the topic, Harry continued to write down notes. This was incredibly interesting and probably would have been his favorite first class of the year if he hadn’t gotten to ride a hippogriff and see Malfoy get retribution for his rudeness.

There were a few minutes at the end of class so Professor Babbling decided to show a demonstration, “Can everybody see me? Good. I will be using nonmagical chalk to draw a rune circle. Different materials can effect the outcome of the runes, plain chalk is for the simpler runes and low powered magic. You will learn about various materials including water, oil, blood, alcohol, and ink.”

Babbling rapidly drew out a series of runes in a small circular indent on the floor for that specific purpose. A few of the runes were interlocking but most remained separated until she finished and drew a circle through all of them. She lit up the tip of her wand with a nonverbal lumos and tapped the runes.

“There are many ways to power runes. For today I’m just doing a simple demonstration so I’m putting the power of a low level spell that relates to the circle into it. These runes are accurate for a circle of daylight, they are common in large libraries with lots of late night readers.” As she spoke the runes glowed briefly before returning to normal.

“This is a dormant circle, an active one is always on and usually always glowing. The circle activates when a person steps inside. I’m going to have you all stand inside so you can see how it works. Please form a line.”

Harry stood up and made his way to Babbling at once, while Padma stood more cautiously and waited at the back. He ended up standing in front of the boy who was probably Theodore and behind another Ravenclaw. The Ravenclaw stepped into the circle and the runes started to glow softly. Their eyes widened and then they stepped out and the runes ceased glowing.

Harry stepped inside the rune circle and watched the runes power up again. The space around him suddenly seemed much brighter, as if it were noon. Outside of the circle the room was darker as it had been and the light of the circle didn’t escape the chalk circle. As Harry stepped out he noticed that the chalk runes were flaking slightly.

Professor Babbling smiled at him, “As I think Mr. Potter has noticed, the chalk starts to wear away after many uses. This is because I used the quality chalk for runes meant only to last a few hours at maximum. All writing materials wear at different rates, with blood lasting the longest. Blood runes are highly restricted though as they are on the edge of dark magic and a person who wants to use them requires a permit from the Ministry of Magic. Oh is that the last of you? Very well, your homework is to read chapter one in  _Ancient Runes Made Easy_ and write a brief one paragraph summary, class is dismissed.”

Theodore gave Harry a brief once over and slight nod before exiting the classroom. Padma and Harry discussed the homework as they walked to the Great Hall for dinner. Padma left for the Ravenclaw table after giving Harry a bright smile. Maybe it wasn’t so hard to make inter-house friendships after all.

Dinner was uneventful and Harry managed to complete his Transfiguration homework and play an entire game of exploding snap before making the excuse of needing to check a certain book in the library for his Ancient Runes homework. He grabbed his bag stuffed with his uniform and quickly changed in a first floor bathroom before holding up his parchment pass to the front doors. They slowly opened and allowed Harry to leave the castle walls.

After reaching the gates where the castle wards ended Harry stuck out his arm in the familiar way of summoning the Knight Bus. As the bus appeared Harry charmed his hair jet black and stepped aboard.

“‘Ello David. Did you manage to get out okay?” Stan greeted him.

“Getting out was okay but I’ll probably run out of excuses. I haven’t told my friends yet and while Ron probably won’t notice for a while, Hermione definitely will.”

“So you need a better way to sneak past your friends. Well I certainly know ‘ow to do that. You can try transfigurin’ something under your sheets and then sneakin’ out. Far as excuses, I always told my mates I ‘ad extra lessons or ‘omework to make up. They believed it ‘cause it was certainly true. I was rubbish at school.”

Harry sat in his designated spot and thanked Stan. Well, a way to sneak past his friends was easy enough with his father’s invisibility cloak. Harder to come up with were excuses for the nights that Ron or his dorm mates decided to stay up later. If he went to the library Hermione might question him or follow, if he pretended to talk to a teacher Ron would ask why, if he said he was exploring the halls then they might tag along.

Continuing his contemplation, Harry mindlessly added destinations and optimized the order of destinations. The work was soothing like a simple puzzle, the type that only Dudley got but never used as Harry watched on in jealousy. Now if only he could figure out a solution...

Harry almost dropped his wand in realization. He could just tell Ron and Hermione that he was going to talk with Remus about his parents. They wouldn’t pry because it was personal and would accept it as a logical reason to leave late at night if he was going to be with teacher. The lie would be backed up by the fact that Harry really would be talking with Remus occasionally. The best lies are based off of truth after all. But there was no time to further dwell on that, not when there was a route to plan and customers to greet.

-

Friday morning came far too soon, leaving Harry groggy and not looking forward to double Potions after Herbology. After some brief contemplation in front of the mirror, Harry decided that he would continue to charm his hair at Hogwarts.

Professor Sprout did a double take when she saw him but didn’t comment. She only gave him a small, sad smile. The first lesson was easy and went by in a blur of leaves and dirt.

Double potions on the other hand dragged on. Harry walked into the classroom and sat in his usual spot in the middle of the room. Snape strode into the classroom just a minute later and stopped in his tracks when he saw Harry. His lip curled back in a sneer and his eyes flashed with some unidentifiable emotion, “Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter. Change your hair back at once.”

Harry immediately protested, “But Professor! It’s allowed-“

“Silence. Or else you will have a detention so that you may resemble your father in another way. Now, quiet down and pull out your books. We shall waste no time,” Snape angrily snapped at Harry.

Harry made sure Snape wasn’t looking and rolled his eyes as he undid the color charm. He expected Snape to do his usual hovering and insults, but was pleasantly surprised when Snape went out of his way to avoid Harry for the full two hours. Every time Harry caught Snape looking at him his eyes were filled with anger and something else before he snarled at Harry again.

He had mentioned Harry’s father, was it possible that they knew each other? Snape was definitely the youngest teacher on staff unless Remus, who looked about a decade older than he should, was younger. While Harry barely knew anything about his father it was hard to imagine him being even remotely friendly with Snape.

Perhaps Harry would ask Remus when he finally got around to having that talk. However, before that could happen, Harry needed to finish his potion. 

“Snape’s a bloody git,” Ron whispered to Harry.

Harry checked to make sure Snape was criticizing Neville before responding, “What else is new?”


	8. Tearful Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a couple people confused about Snape and Harry at the end of last chapter. To clear it up, Harry is a redhead like his mother. So Snape has seen him as like Lily in appearance but ‘tainted’ by the personality of James. Harry likes to change his hair color and had it black so he could feel a connection to his father (with whom he shared nothing of appearance with besides the messiness of his hair). Obviously Snape was pissed because how /dare/ Potter defile the hair given to him by Lily in favor of looking like that arrogant fool.

In the following week Harry found that he enjoyed working on the Knight Bus, despite the associated sleep deprivation. He had already subscribed to a daily Wide-Eye potion delivery and was quickly becoming addicted to the bitter taste from the aconite flowers.

While working from 10pm to 1am was a bit of an off time, there were certainly regulars. There was Sophia Blacksmith, the young woman with tired yet calculating eyes. She worked a low paying job as a cleaning lady at the Leaky Cauldron but her mind was brilliant. She enjoyed helping with Harry figure out homework and often gave him riddles, though sometimes her solutions for Defense Against the Dark Arts scenarios were more violent than necessary and ruthlessly efficient.

Gary Walker was an elderly man who had lost his entire family to the first war. His husband was brutally murdered and his two children died in battle and his single grandchild had joined the Ministry only to be killed by Death Eaters looking to destabilize the government. He confessed that he rode the Knight Bus each night to escape the nightmares that kept him up and the intense aloneness that gripped his heart. He was friendly and enjoyed talking to Harry but would randomly freeze up and seem to drift elsewhere, sometimes silently crying as he was trapped in old memories.

The final regular rider was Morwen Barker, a middle aged woman with the longest hair that Harry had ever seen. The brown locks were always twisted into some kind of complicated braids, occasionally with flowers tucked into them or jewels that caught the dim bus lights. Morwen was always willing to regal Harry with legends of old and tales straight form fantasy. She always seemed to feel bittersweet longing when telling her stories, nostalgia washing her face in an old sadness. She eventually revealed that she worked as a magical painter and was often struck with inspiration at night and therefore could only sleep during the day. Harry once swore that he saw a flash of fangs in her mouth, but the next time he looked they were gone.

Overall, the Knight Bus regulars for the midnight ride were an interesting, if a bit glum, group. Harry loved all of them, and as they got to know him, they loved him back. They entertained him and taught him old history and new knowledge and in return he listened to them and offered advice and a hand to clasp when the world was too much.

While his friendships with the midnight regulars grew, the Knight Bus runes stayed as stubborn as ever. Lately the runes that allowed the bus map to record an unplottable location had been acting up, which interfered with Harry’s ability to make effective routes. Thankfully the runes that allowed the bus to drive to a heavily warded area were still functional, allowing the bus to arrive at the stop while the location slipped everyone’s mind as they teleported away. But Stan worriedly informed Harry that the two abilities were closely connected and the map circle failing would lead to the others failing too.

When the monthly day off for repairs on the Knight Bus came Harry was prepared and ready to spend the whole Saturday bent over old rune circles. He had stayed after class several times to ask Professor Babbling complicated questions about the interactions of circles and how to retune runes to an object and the prevention of magically caused object sentience. Needless to say, Harry had quickly become one of her favorite students and was top of the class. Perhaps Hermione would have been better than him if she weren’t so stressed all the time but Harry poured most of his focus into the subject.

That was not to say that his other grades were suffering. In fact, they were probably the best that he had ever had since the Dursley’s had forbid him from doing better than Dudley at math, his favorite muggle subject. He had stopped copying Hermione’s homework and started getting tips and help from the midnight regulars as well as Ernie and Gwen whenever she was conducting. Stan also tried to help but wasn’t exactly a shining example and more often than not simply gave Harry ways to cheat that he refused to try. He was doing well enough on his own.

So there he was, in some old shirt of Dudley’s, the magical map pried off the wall to reveal the panels behind it that were covered in runes. Stan sat on the seat next to Harry and pointed out the three different circles.

“Y’see, that ones for the contract between the rider and the bus that allows us to get their location. It’s duplicated on one of the other parts so that it can interact with some of the other circles. That second one there, the small one, is jus’ a simple one that lets you light up the destinations and out them out. Like a weird lumos an’ nox, y’know?”

Harry nodded, diligently committing the information to memory. “So that last one is the circle that gets around plotting the unplottable.”

“Right. I don’t know ‘ow Ernie’s great grandpa managed it, ‘cause that’s supposed to be impossible. But ‘e was a rune master, an’ the best one of the century. This circle is tied to the Prang family magic, as well as allowing employees to work on it. The runes are drawn from a mix of blood an’ ink, an incredibly powerful combination but they ‘aven’t been touched up in at least two decades since Ernie’s dad refuses to reveal more about the bus.”

“What’s the deal with that anyways? I mean, I don’t want to be rude of course-“

Stan interrupt Harry’s apology, “Oh, we ‘aven’t told you yet? Not to worry, nothing to be sorry about. The Knight Bus belongs to the Prang family, which also happens to be a rather prodigious pureblood family. They’re not Sacred Twenty-Eight but that list is rubbish anyways. Ernie’s father, Hendor, wants Ernie to have a son so there is an heir for the family and they don’t die out. There’s distant relatives of course but ‘e ‘as the strongest claim to the family name. Ernie never married and didn’t want children so he didn’t adopt. Hendor wasn’t pleased so he refuses to ‘elp with the bus and won’t tell us ‘ow to fix it. ‘E’s a right bastard, always trying to control Ernie. When he was a kid it was even worse but I don’t know the specifics.”

Harry nodded in understanding and dropped the subject in favor of examining the rune circles. The one for unplottable locations looked incredibly complex. The dark mixture of blood and ink was flaking or worn in places. Harry could sense the strong magic emanating from it, the same way he could feel the magic of Hogwarts or Diagon Alley when he was a first year. The runes of the circle were tiny and a combination of modern runes, some old Germanic wizarding variation, as well as some that didn’t match any of the languages Harry had seen in his books and looked as if they had been created by Ernie’s great grandfather himself. Creating runes was notoriously difficult and Harry felt extreme respect for the man. The small red runes were actually arranged in a tight spiral that looked around three times to fit them all. It was probably the most complicated modern rune circle in existence

“Ernie’s great grandfather was a genius,” Harry managed to tell Stan in an awed whisper.

Stan chuckled, “Quite right. There’s a reason no other wizard ‘as been able to recreate transportation like this. Real good for business, it is.”

“I have wondered by its all so uncomfortable. Floo is awful and I heard some of the upper years describing apparition and I’d definitely don’t like the sound of it. I suppose the Hogwarts Express is alright. I was actually wondering, do you know how that works? Is it magic or muggle?” Harry’s mind drifted to the scarlet train that he had been so curious about on his way to Hogwarts.

Stan paused his squinting at the runes and runic encyclopedias. “Not sure. I’m guessing it’s mostly mundane ‘cause it doesn’t do nothing special. Though, there’s gotta be notice me not charms or disillusionment spells on it to keep the muggles away.”

“That’s kind of disappointing, I was hoping it would be more interesting like the bus.”

“Nah, we’re one of a kind, we are.”

Harry chuckled, “Just wait until someone makes one that can go underwater.”

Stan gasped and shoved Harry lightly, “Traitor!”

Harry grinned to himself and pulled a rune dictionary closer. He started with translating the circle that lit up the map as it was the smallest, simplest, and similar to what he had learnt in class thus far.

Harry carefully recorded each rune on a piece of parchment, occasionally marking if it was one that indicated an unusual meaning or was from a different language. The list of runes and their meaning was small though still quite impressive. Harry finally reached one that he couldn’t read. It was a smaller one that looked like it had once been two merged runes but was now deteriorating and almost unreadable. Probably important, then.

“Hey Stan, can you read this rune?” Harry carefully made sure that Stan sat back before asking his question. While he had gotten much better, there was still a tug at his gut whenever he asked a question, especially while the person was busy.

Stan looked over, pimpled face contorting into a frown that was an unusual sight on the cheerful teen’s face. He traced what could be made out of the rune in the air and his face cleared, “Oh, it’s a combination of retah and sapi, the modern runes used by a wizarding town in Iceland for movable and place. That might be part of the problem with the map not plotting correctly. ‘Ere, this is ‘ow you should write it out when we touch it up.”

Despite Stan doing nothing besides explain a smudged rune and insinuate that Harry would be the one writing out some of the runes, he felt a private joy. Stan trusted him enough to fix the rune writing and didn’t even mind explaining the rune and its origins to Harry. He simply stated, “Thanks, Stan.”

Returning to his parchment and the calming peace of translating and copying runes, Harry smiled to himself. Working for the Knight Bus had probably been the best decision Harry had ever made.

“Okay, let’s take a break now. Got any ‘omework to do?”

“As always. Ready to listen to me complain about my Potions essay?” Harry tugged out his half written essay.

Stan groaned, “Why do you always save that for me? I ‘ate that bloody bat. Can’t you bring the runes to me instead?”

“Because I always do Ancient Runes first and then everything else besides Potions. I understand all the other subjects but I hate Potions. It’s like cooking but worse because it can explode! And Snape just makes it worse.” Cooking for the Dursleys had instilled a great hatred of cooking for anyone other than himself in Harry.

“Don’t complain about your A and occasional E or P David, I was a consistent D in Potions. And everything else I guess, that’s why I dropped out after fifth year. At least I got to leave with the bang from your first year. I can call myself part of the Turban Disaster.”

Stan laughed at the affronted look on Harry’s face, “Do people actually call it that?”

“Of course they do. From what I’ve heard about your year, there are bets circulating about what trouble Harry Potter will get into next. Any ideas?”

Harry froze, he had almost forgotten that they still didn’t know that he was Harry Potter. “Well there was the Turban Disaster, last year was the Chamber of Secrets. Sirius Black escaped this year so maybe he’ll end up tap dancing in front of Hogwarts and Harry will get to report him.”

“That’d be quite a sight. Y’know, he’s gotten rid of two Defense teachers. Before that it was normal stuff like retirement or illness, now it’s secretly You-Know-’Oo and a fraud with no memories. ‘Oo’s the new teacher again?”

“Professor Lupin, he’s the best we’ve had so far. He’s a great teacher and his lessons are always interesting. Now, do you happen to know how the amount of venom on a snake tooth affects potency of results?”

Stan just laughed.

After finishing most of the translations for the map panel as well as his remaining homework, Harry was exhausted. He complained as he left the bus, “I am so tired and I’ve got a headache from all of the magic from the exposed circles.”

Stan gave him an odd look, “You can feel the magic?”

“Oh, uh, yeah? Is that not normal?” Harry did not want a parseltongue incident.

Shrugging, Stan replied, “I guess so. Most purebloods don’t have the ability, it’s more of a muggleborn thing. I think it’s about how much magic you were exposed to as a child and how much your parents were. So for muggleborns, it’s a big switch from no magic to magic everywhere. Some purebloods can do it too and it can be trained I think. It’s a useful skill for curse breakers but not much else.”

Harry nodded in understanding, relieved that it wasn’t some hidden talent associated with the Dark Arts. “Come on now David, you’re gonna experience apparating.”

As Harry was deposited roughly in Hogsmeade, he decided that he definitely preferred Ernie’s driving, no matter how bad it was. “You know, I think Ernie did that with me once before. I’ll stick with taking the bus for now.”

Stan laughed before disappearing again with a crack.

-

Harry decided as September reached its end, that he had put off talking to Professor Lupin long enough. He stayed after class one day to ask if Professor Lupin was free to have that discussion over tea. So there he was, sitting in a comfortable chair and surrounded by books while Professor Lupin, who insisted on being called Remus in private, made tea.

“So Harry,” Remus deposited a steaming cup in front of him. “What did you want to talk about first?”

“Well there’s two things. I want to know more about my parents of course, I barely know anything about my mum and all I know about my dad is from his journal.” Harry took a deep breath, “I want to know about Sirius Black. I know that you were friends and I know what he did. But I want to know why, because everything said that he was my dad’s best friend. Please, Remus.”

Remus stared contemplatively at his tea, “I can definitely tell you about your parents. But Sirius Black? I’m afraid that even I don’t know why he turned his back on us, the people he called brothers in school. But I can try. Just know that some of what I tell you may be upsetting.”

“I’ll be able to take it, after all, I have survived a lot in two years.”

“Yes, I have heard all about your adventures. The rest of the staff seem particularly fond of guessing what you’ll do next. I do hope that I don’t turn out like your previous two Defense teachers though. But remember, some things can hurt a lot more when they come from someone close to you. Betrayal can sting sharper than any hex.” Remus sipped his tea before continuing. “There is one artefact that I would dearly like back. As I’m sure your journal told you, your father, Peter, Black, and I were all part of a little group which we called the Marauders. We considered ourselves to be quite the masterminds, and pranksters as well. By fifth year we had constructed a magical map of Hogwarts that showed where every person, ghost, or other named creature was and detailed each room and staircase and hallway, including secret passageways. Alas, on the last day of our seventh year Filch managed to corner us and confiscate everything in our pockets. It was disguised as just a bit of parchment but I’m sure that he still has it.”

Harry was impressed, a magical map that showed everything in the castle? “I’ll see if I can find it, but I do have something else you may be interested in.”

Remus gasped as Harry pulled out the invisibility cloak with a flourish. “Your father’s cloak. I haven’t seen that since your parents went into hiding and allowed Dumbledore access to it. We got into so much trouble with that old thing. Of course, as your professor I should not condone any breaking of the rules. But speaking as a family friend and the only remaining Marauder, make sure it gets some use. Just don’t leave the castle while Black is still out, promise me that.”

“I promise,” Harry vowed not to break the trust that Remus had given him.

“Now, a story about your parents before you leave. Hmm… How about your first Christmas? That was right after your parents went into complete hiding and I couldn’t be there, but Lily sent an incredibly detailed letter.”

The story was filled with laughter and mishaps on tiny brooms and by the end Harry had tears running down his face as he heard what could have been. Remus politely pretended not to notice and handed Harry a tissue. After that, the meetings and tea became regular once or twice occurrences that brought up a sense of nostalgia in Remus and longing in Harry.


	9. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes on his first Hogsmeade visit with his friends and they finally confront him about where he goes at night.

The first and second months of school flew by and before Harry knew it, it was Halloween. In his first year he had learned that his parents were brutally murdered on Halloween and it had rather taken the fun out of it. His first Halloween at Hogwarts he could not honor his parents memory because he was battling a mountain troll and becoming friends with Hermione, but he liked to think that they had guided him to one of his best friends. The year previous, Harry was stuck in a death day party, surrounded by ghosts that reminded him of his dead parents while a basilisk struck and petrified its first victim.

This year would be different, Harry had decided. He had not yet returned to the Potter Mansion to visit his parents' true graves but had requested permission from Professor McGonagall to leave the castle. She had granted his request with misty eyes and a comforting pat on the back.

Harry was planning to visit the family graveyard after the Halloween feast. Remus had agreed to go with him and sit vigil and teach him about some of the wizarding customs for honoring the dead on Halloween. Ron and Hermione had also been informed and were incredibly supportive. They insisted that it would be good finally see where they were buried. But before Harry could go, there was the first Hogsmeade trip.

“I really can’t believe your relatives signed your slip Harry,” Ron was wearing a thick red sweater but still seemed frozen by the harsh wind.

Harry debated telling his friends about forging the signature. His guilt over not telling them anything else finally won out, “They didn’t.”

“Then Harry, how did you-” Hermione began.

“Forged it.”

Ron guffawed as Hermione looked increasingly distressed, “That’s brilliant mate! Good for you.”

“Harry, that’s illegal. What if someone finds out? What if-”

Harry cut her off again. “Who’s going to tell? Only you two know. Also, I don’t think I’ll get in too much trouble with the Ministry for forging my muggle uncle’s signature for a permission slip to Hogsmeade.”

Hermione pursed her lips but didn’t say anything else on the matter. She instead kept up a running commentary on the history of Hogsmeade and the various surrounding buildings. Ron eventually guided them to the Three Broomsticks and Honeydukes where they tried out butterbeer and sampled candies. Overall, it had been a wonderful trip and left Harry feeling content and happy.

Until they stopped to rest in front of the fence separating them from the Shrieking Shack, that was. “So Harry, where have you been spending your nights?”

Harry froze at Hermione’s question. “Well, uh, I told you about my meetings with Professor Lupin.”

“Except that you don’t meet with Professor Lupin every night, and you definitely don’t have meetings until after midnight.”

Ron avoided Harry’s gaze as Hermione brought this information to light. Harry swallowed the rising fear. He had known this would happen eventually, right? So why was he panicking? 

“Look mate, we get that you can have your secrets. But you were worrying us. So what’s up?”

Harry took a deep breath and tried to settle his heart. It was okay, it was just Ron and Hermione, they wouldn’t get him in trouble or shout at him, they wouldn’t lock him in a cupboard that was just so small and dark and why didn’t he get any food- No. They wouldn’t do that. “I have permission to leave the grounds from 10 to 1.”

“What, why?” Hermione honestly seemed surprised that Harry was doing something not against school rules. He wondered if he should be offended about that.

“Over the summer my relatives told me that they won’t pay for Hogwarts or anything else anymore. I used my Hogwarts trust vault to pay for school things but I need money to last until I’m eighteen and can access the rest of my vaults and become Lord Potter instead of just Heir.” Harry said it in a rush, embarrassed about his lack of money until he remembered that the Weasleys also struggled for money.

Ron and Hermione were speechless. Apparently whatever they had expected Harry to be doing was not a legal, paying job. Hermione tentatively asked, “So you have a job?”

“Blimey mate, you could have told us. We already know that your relatives are tossers.” Actually, they knew that the Dursleys didn’t like magic or Harry. What they didn’t know was that Harry had lived in a tiny broom cupboard under the stairs for as long as he could remember before Hogwarts. That as a toddler he thought his name was ‘boy’ and that his Uncle regularly threatened him with violence and even went through with it occasionally.

“Yeah,” Harry revealed, “I navigate for the Knight Bus.”

Hermione looked intrigued, “What’s the Knight Bus?”

This was more comfortable territory, “It’s a magical bus that wizards use for transportation if they can’t apparate. You would love it Hermione, its got such complex and advanced magic on it, you should see the rune circles.”

Hermione was looking steadily more interested while Ron groaned. “What’s so special about the Knight Bus? I went on it once and it was horrible.”

Harry was scandalized, “Don’t say that! There’s so much magic that goes into it that you don’t even recognize. Did you know that it can plot unplottable locations?”

“That’s impossible!” Hermione was definitely interested now.

“But it’s not! Ernie, the owner and driver, had a great grandfather, who created the bus, who was the best Master Runist of the century and he managed it. The runes need to be fixed because they’re so old so that’s why I decided to take Ancient Runes, and I’m so glad I did.”

Ron mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like swots.

“Do you want to see it Hermione?”

“Yes! It sounds so fascinating!”

Harry stuck his arm out into the road. “Don’t mention that I work there, I usually disguise myself.”

“Alright Harry,” Hermione said absently, admiring the purple bus that had just appeared.

Gwen stepped off the bus, dressed in the vibrant uniform that accented her numerous freckles and looking quite pretty. Ron eyed her in the same way he had looked at Madame Rosmerta earlier.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus. My name is Gwen and I will be your conductor for the day. Please state your destination.” Gwen gave them a cheerful smile.

“I wanted to show my friends the bus, so could you just let us sit and eventually take us closer to Hogsmeade?”

“Absolutely, please take a seat. Your total fare is three galleons. Names, please?”

Harry handed over the coins, “Hermione, Ron, and Harry.” 

“Thank you D- Harry. It’s a pleasure to have you.” Gwen then returned to Harry’s usual seat by the map and added Hogsmeade to the list.

Harry pointed out the map and locations list, and the lever that activated the teleportation, as well as the way the bus nearly hit several objects that all jumped out of the way. Suffice to say, Hermione was in awe.

“Harry. You chose the best place to work. I need to ride this more often and figure out how it all works,” From there Hermione dissolved into a series of mutterings.

Ron and Harry exchanged twin looks before grinning at their bookworm friend. Nevermind that Harry felt the exact same way. The ride was far too short in Harry’s opinion, but they wanted to be back in Hogsmeade in time to catch the carriages back to Hogwarts instead of walking. In the past two years they had seen Professor McGonagall check in to make sure no students were missing after Hogsmeade trips.

Harry thought he caught another glimpse of some kind of horse pulling the carriages, but the ride back to Hogsmeade was peaceful. Hermione blabbered on about the complexities of combining wand and rune magic, Ron was breaking into his stash of Honeydukes, and Harry just leaned back against the seat and smiled. It was good to be reminded about how much he cared for his friends, they truly were his rock when he was at the Dursley’s house.

The peace ended as they were ushered into the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. Crowds swarmed around, not quite ready to sit and looking around at the various decorations. The hall was as wonderful as always, but Harry couldn’t help the bitter taste in his mouth. Three separate people had come up and thanked him for his defeat of Voldemort, congratulating him on his day of victory. People were celebrating not just Halloween, but Harry’s conquering of the Dark Lord. But that meant they were also celebrating the murder of James and Lily Potter and the subsequent orphaning of one year old Harry Potter.

After dinner had finished and dessert eaten, Harry rose and quietly said goodbye to his friends. Nobody else noticed him leave, but Remus followed him out of the hall and together they took Harry’s portkey to visit his deceased parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reached my goal for Camp NaNoWriMo (20000 words) and got all the way to chapter seventeen. I’m setting another goal for myself for all of August plus a couple extra days from the end of July and beginning of September. I’ll try to write 35000 words and I’m already doing great! That should (hopefully) finish off the book because I’m over halfway done now. There should be around a chapter every week or so if I remember to post. Also, for a bit this will stay canon compliant but around chapter twenty maybe it will start to diverge. This will be a series! I hope! This is more of a book to set up some other stuff for GoF but I promise it won’t have a boring canon compliant ending.


	10. Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Remus visit the Potter graves on Halloween. Traditions are shared and spirits are greeted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To me, Christian holidays in a magic society seem... odd. My solution? Wizards used to celebrate the solstices and equinoxes and other days of magical power. Their traditions have some similarities to modern (and old) pagan religions and practices but are different. A few decades ago there was a dramatic spike in muggleborn students and to a lesser extent, halfbloods. This made the old pureblood families more receptive to extremist ideals such as the ones used by Voldemort. The muggleborns brought in new traditions like muggle holidays and their ability to combine two worlds scared the prejudiced pure bloods. Since the reign of Grindelwald and then Voldemort focused on purity, many who fought against them began to renounce anything traditional or culturally related to pure blooded rituals. While many of the ‘dark’ purebloods celebrated these holidays, so did most other purebloods and halfbloods. They are now heavily debated and are currently a strictly gray area in magic traditions and are completely legal but not as widespread as before. Sorry for the info dump, I just really love world building!

Harry and Remus arrived at the gates of Potter Mansion. A house elf greeted them but quickly left them to their mourning. The family graveyard was large, decorated with small obelisks and the occasional mausoleum filled with ashes. They eventually found their way to four graves in a row. 

The first two were carved with edges that completed each other. The graves of Harry’s paternal grandparents, Fleamont and Euphemia. The dates were within days of each other. “They were inseparable until the very end, died of dragonpox after James married Lily but before you were born. They had James very late in life and as a result spoiled him rotten, you couldn’t find a more loving family if you tried.”

Harry eventually forced his gaze towards the next two graves. Two simple headstones with their names and small notes of love. Carved in the stone there was a unique design, stags dancing around the top edge of the graves with crowns of lilies perched in their antlers. The careful carving blurred as Harry’s eyes filled with tears.

“Hey mum, dad. I’m sorry it took me so long to visit.” He trailed off, voice too choked to say anything else.

Remus whispered, “Hello Prongs, been a while hasn’t it? I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. You didn’t deserve it Lils, James. I miss you every day.” Remus pulled Harry into a tentative hug and they held each other for a minute, surrounded by the silence that was brought by the dead listening to the living.

Eventually, Remus pulled out two candles and handed one to Harry. “It’s tradition to bring a handcrafted candle to the graves of the people closest to you. It shows that you still remember and care enough to put genuine effort into the deads’ memory. I made one for you since you don’t know how, but next year I’ll teach you. Duplicated candles are alright for the family that you weren’t close with.” A wave of the wand and each grave had a small candle sitting in front of it.

Remus slipped into teacher mode, “Some families are more traditional and refer to Halloween as Samhain or even the Day of the Veil. It’s typically the ones that honor family more that use the old names, rather than elitist families. The candle tradition is widespread and taught to most pureblood or halfblood children. It is also a day for communing with the dead, though that requires more expertise than I have and doesn’t truly allow you to talk, just feel the spirits of the deceased.

“In older times, it was common to sacrifice a small animal to renew the life of the dead but that’s frowned upon now. The newer version is setting up a small meal at the grave to allow another feast for those who have passed on. We also light a special incense that heightens our ability to sense spirits. Normally it’s used by the Ministry to track down particularly nasty ghosts, but for Samhain it’s used to find comfort in the presence of friends and family who can’t physically be there.” Remus produced a small bowl and stick of incense that he lit and set in between the 

graves of Lily and James.

Harry took a deep breath, the incense smelled woody but not bad like the stuff in the Divination tower. The candles smelled of vanilla and a hint of cinnamon that hung in the air, creating a cozy atmosphere out of the graveyard. Remus went on to explain that unlike muggles, most wizards did not fear the dead, but honored them and loved them. 

The sky was truly dark by that point and Remus cast a warming charm over them as they sat. The candle light illuminated the hazy smoke and past that, the stars far brighter than anywhere, even Hogwarts. And then it happened. Harry felt the familiar buzz of magic, a tingling sensation and sour taste on his tongue.

The incense must have been working, because Harry could even feel the outline of where the magic was. Two shapes in front of him, with another one on each side of him. One of the shapes extended its magic forwards and Harry swore that he felt it brush his arm as it touched him. There was absolutely no denying it, his parents and grandparents were there. Beside him, Remus stiffened as the second figure touched him. He quietly asked, “James? Are you there?”

The figure shifted closer to Remus and touched his head, as if to ruffle his hair. Remus let out a sad laugh and touched his hand to his head, unknowingly coming into contact with the spirit of James Potter.

Harry turned away to face the one he guessed was his mother. “Hey mum.”

The magical presence touched Harry’s face and he suddenly felt a wave of love and pride and affection wash over him. It was pure safety. His grandparents moved closer and joined his mum. Another presence touched him and Harry turned to sort of see the spirit of James Potter. He smiled at the featureless shape of magic that was his father.

They stayed like that for a while, Remus and Harry sitting surrounded by the Potter family. As the incense burned low and the candles neared the ends of their wicks, the pair stood. Harry longed to embrace his parents but he could not touch them. They wrapped invisible arms around him and for a brief moment Harry saw a flash of familiar red hair and a mischievous smile. In the background, there were hundreds of spirits, weak but still there, if only for a second. And then the candles went out and the smoke stopped burning. The veil had lowered once again, separating Harry from his family.

-

Later that morning, when Harry and Remus finally returned to the castle, it was to a widespread panic. Sirius Black had broken into the Gryffindor dorms by slashing the portrait of the Fat Lady and Harry Potter was missing. The second part was easily alleviated, but Remus and Harry shared a look of horror at the news of Sirius Black with the nerve to attack on Halloween.

Harry found his friends in a corner and got filled in by Ron, but his mind remained troubled for the rest of the night and he got no sleep at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am ten days into my goal of 35000 words. How much I  
> have I written? Over 17000 words. Holy shit. I have never written so much so fast, why can’t I do this for NaNoWriMo? Anyway, I’m onto chapter 21 now so I’ll be posting twice a week. Wednesday/Saturday posting schedule for the rest of August. This one I will follow, I promise! It’s on my calendar and everything!


	11. Dogs and Dementors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the day of the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff quidditch match. Naturally, something goes wrong. Just his average Saturday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh, screw canon events? Because I wrote out my (incredibly basic) chapter summaries based off some skimming through power points on the chapters in prisoner of Azkaban. So... Snape substitutes for defense the day before this and Harry gets super pissed at him because he is trying to expose Remus and make the students scared of werewolves

After the utter chaos following Sirius Black’s break in, it was a relief to have something as completely normal as quidditch. Sure, Harry could do without the tense atmosphere in the halls and occasional shouting match with Hufflepuffs, but he was definitely looking forward to the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match.

And yet, he just couldn’t fall asleep. He had taken the night off of work to get a full night of rest but his body had decided that he was not allowed to sleep when he should obviously be navigating a badly driven bus across the country.

Harry rubbed his eyes, tired yet too stubborn to let him sleep, and sat up. There was no point laying in bed if he couldn’t sleep anyways. He grabbed a quick glass of water and made his way to the window, hoping that watching the stars in the dark sky would help him sleep. His eyes scanned the grounds and he nearly dropped his cup, because surely he was hallucinating.

Blinking his eyes did not make the strange sight disappear. For there Lucy was, striding across the edge of the Forbidden Forest with Crookshanks and a rather large black dog. The creepy drawing of a Grim from his Divination book raised to the front of his thoughts unbidden. What did it say that his own cat was walking with the omen of death prophecized to kill him? She truly was living up to her full name of Lucifer.

Harry watched a little while longer before the three animals were lost in shadow. He returned to bed and lay there on top of his blankets, contemplating how violently Oliver Wood would murder him if he didn’t sleep at all. He was sure that seeing a dog that symbolized his imminent demise wouldn’t be nearly a good enough excuse for the quidditch fanatic.

When Harry fell asleep, he was haunted by dreams of spectral dogs tearing him apart as an unsympathetic Lucy watched on. Lucy eventually shifted into a disappointed Oliver Wood who simply shook his head and said something about Diggory not dying right before any quidditch matches. The dog and Oliver then merged and shifted into Sirius Black, first the rebellious looking one found in a photograph tucked in his father’s journal and then the one on the wanted posters. Looking mad and disheveled, screaming and laughing until Harry woke in a cold sweat.

Sitting at breakfast, Harry felt as if he had gotten no sleep at all. Oliver Wood was sitting across from him, furiously shoving more toast onto Harry’s plate and ranting about the need for sleep to be at peak physical performance. Harry, feeling particularly awful and not in the mood to listen to his insane captain, swallowed three doses more than was recommended of Wide Eye potion in less than five seconds. Oliver actually stopped mid rant to stare at Harry.

Hermione slapped his hand, “Harry, that’s not good for you. It can become seriously addicting and your ability to function without it can actually-“

Harry turned her out, simply fixing her with his dead eyes and eye bags that looked more like bruises. She wisely decided to just bite her lip and spread some jam onto his toast. Ron gazed upon him with no small amount of awe and slight fear. As the potions kicked into effect Harry relished in his newfound ability to make his schoolmates cower by simply drinking a potion and being extremely sleep deprived.

Harry bit into one of the slices of toast, to Hermione’s approval. The strawberry jam didn’t mix particularly well with the bitter taste of Wide Eye potion but he needed to eat something. As he finished the toast the potion finished kicking in and suddenly his eyes widened and took it every detail around him. The faint smell of berries, the musty smell from the owls delivering the post, the way Oliver’s face had scrunched slightly at the brow, the heavy exhale from Ron at his left side, and a strange light at the other end of the Great Hall that looked suspiciously like Merlin himself. Wide Eye potion normally enhanced the senses for the first minute, but taking this much was simply something else.

“Come on Harry, time to get ready for the match.” Oliver helped him up and started to walk out of the Great Hall.

Ron looked rather concerned, “Are you alright there mate? You look kind of sick.”

Hermione huffed and said in her ‘told you so’ voice, “Excessive Wide Eye potion intake can cause slight nausea for a couple minutes as well as mild hallucinations. Which is why Harry definitely shouldn’t have drunk so much and looks as if he’s seen a ghost.”

“We see ghosts all the time Hermione,” Harry slowly responded. “I see Merlin. By his beard, I’m just going to get into my uniform.” 

Harry unsteadily took a step forward as Hermione and Ron exchanged worried glances. He then steadied himself and followed Oliver out of the Great Hall and down to the changing rooms. The sky was overcast and fat drops of rain were already starting to fall. A strong wind buffeted against his cloak as he hurried across the grounds.

By the time Harry exited the changing rooms with the rest of his team the enhanced senses had faded. The rain was in full force then, pouring over the seven of them, instantly soaking them to the bone. Oliver’s pep talk slash threatening speech was lost to the wind as they lined up on the Quidditch pitch.

There was a whistle blowing and lightning flashing and Harry kicked off. Any glimpse of the golden snitch was lost by dark skies and the heaviest rain of the school year. A crack of thunder split the sky and drowned out the cheers of the crowd as Angelina Johnson scored a goal.

A bludger flew out of nowhere and Harry barely dodged in time, rubbing furiously at his glasses in an attempt to dry them. The game continued in this manner for some time, goals were scored and the weather worsened as did Harry’s vision. By the time that another bludger nearly took off Harry’s arm, Oliver called a time out.

When Harry touched down, it was to Oliver apologizing. “Sorry Harry, I completely forgot that you wouldn’t be able to see through your glasses in the rain. Does anyone know a water repelling charm?”

“I do! Harry, give me your glasses!” Hermione emerged from nowhere and snatched Harry’s glasses out of his hands. She tapped them with her wand and muttered some spell that he didn’t recognize, “Here. The spell should last for a few hours after the match ends.”

“That’s if Potter catches the snitch soon. Come on Harry, you’ve got this. Youngest seeker in a century!” Oliver patted him on the back and the time out ended.

The team kicked off once again, reenergized and determined to win. Lightning and thunder still roared, rain still fell, and Harry still wondered if that was considered a safety hazard. But he could see now, and something gold caught his eye.

Cedric Diggory and Harry both took off across the field, chasing down that flash of fluttering wings. The snitch weaved through the air, determined to lose them in the rain. Cedric and Harry were neck and neck, rain falling in sheets onto them as they extended their arms.

A deep cold that did not come from the weather found its way down Harry’s back. The usual sour taste of magic was tainted as if he had eaten something rotten. From the background noise of rain and chanting rose a scream. A very familiar, heart wrenching scream.

“Not Harry! Please!”

Harry choked on his breath, his limbs felt numb and his ears were filled with the screams of his deceased mother. Below him, at least a hundred dementors had covered the pitch. And they were all converging on him. Then several things happened at once.

Harry’s legs gave out and stopped responding, leaving him to fall through the air. He faintly registered screams and cheers as he fell and Cedric caught the snitch. There was a streak of yellow heading straight towards him. Before Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head he noticed a spectral looking black dog seated in the top row. It howled something far worse than the whistling wind and for his last second of consciousness, Harry truly believed in the omen of death.

-

When Harry finally woke up he, unfortunately, knew exactly where he was. The white walls of the Hospital Wing greeted him, dark except for the dim lights along the walls. Outside it was dark, clearly nighttime.

Harry vaguely remembered hearing several voices earlier but he hadn’t been able to wake up. Something about dementors and losing and Dumbledore. “Oh good, you’re awake. You gave us all quite the fright, Mr. Potter.”

Madame Pomfrey had noticed that he had awakened. She quickly set about feeding him some foul tasting potion that he took without complaint. “Your friends and teammates came to visit earlier but I forced them to leave a few hours ago so you could rest in peace. They left something for you with Mr. Diggory.”

She returned to her office and Harry turned his head, noticing the older boy for the first time. He was handsome in a way that hadn’t been visible from across the hall as Oliver pointed him out or through the heavy rain. His hair was tousled and messy from flying and he was still in his quidditch robes, though they had been dried off and cleaned.

“Hey Harry, since your friends used up their visiting time they gave me something for you as I was coming in. I just, I’m really sorry.” Cedric looked genuinely distressed as he handed over a bag.

Harry took it and opened it to reveal some scraps of wood. He was about to ask what it was when he noticed the chunk of wood still emblazoned with Nimbus 2000. “Oh.” His first gift at Hogwarts, his first possession that wasn’t just necessary for learning. His faithful, expensive, broom that he absolutely could not afford to replace.

“What, what happened to it? I remember falling but,” Harry trailed off, eyes still fixed on the mere splinters that used to be one of the fastest brooms in the world.

“Well, um, when you fell, the wind caught your broom. Everybody was focused on saving you so nobody noticed until later where it had gone. Uh, the wind carried it straight into the Whomping Willow. The tree that-”

“The tree that hits back. Yeah, I know what it is. Thanks for bringing it Cedric. What happened when I fell? I remember the dementors and you catching the snitch,” Cedric shifted uncomfortably at this. “I think there was something yellow too. Was that, was that you?”

Cedric rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Yeah. I didn’t notice the dementors and you falling until I had caught the snitch. I tried to dive and catch you. I managed to grab your hand but it just slipped right out of my grasp. Harry I am so sorry that I didn’t catch you. If Dumbledore hadn’t been at the game, or cast the spell just a few seconds later-” Cedric cut himself off, looking terribly guilty. “Dumbledore managed to hit you with a spell that slowed your fall just enough for you to break your arm and leg but not die on impact. Hufflepuff won the game and I tried to convince Wood to agree to a rematch but he refused.”

“That sounds like him. Don’t worry about it Cedric, it’s not your fault that the dementors affect me so much or that I fell. You deserve the win.”

“Thanks, Harry. Friends?” The sixth year looks so incredibly hopeful and honest that Harry can’t help but agree.

“Sure, friends. Now, you should go to bed before Madame Pomfrey has your head.”

Cedric laughed easily, “That’s probably true. Even if I am training under her, she won’t go easy on me.” At Harry’s questioning face he explained, “I’m training to be a healer. My dad wants me to join the Ministry like him but I’m more interested in helping people directly.”

“That’s a good reason,” Harry told him earnestly.

“Thanks Harry, I’ll be going now. I’ll see you around.”

“See you.”

As Harry lay alone in an empty Hospital Wing, arm and leg aching even though they were healed, there were two thoughts in his head. One, he had definitely seen a Grim and had somehow survived yet another instance where he was supposed to die. Two, he absolutely had to find a way to protect himself from the dementors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry: *is an exhausted cryptid*  
> His friends, gently: Harry what the actual fuck  
> Harry: I haven’t slept in three days and everybody literally wants to murder me so I’m just going to drink as many wide eye potions as I can before I die


	12. Maps and Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry receives the Marauder’s Map and overhears something terrible.

Thankfully, Harry’s wish to be able to fight off the dementors was soon granted in the week following his release from the Hospital Wing. All he had had to do was mention the dementors in one of his chats with Remus and he was launched into a discussion about the creatures. This roused a memory from months ago, one of the dementor on the train.

“Didn’t you cast some spell that deflected the dementor on the Hogwarts Express?”

From there it was quite simple. Well, maybe not simple. Harry had to convince Remus to let him attempt an incredibly hard to master and powerful defensive charm that required the embodiment of fear and despair to know if it was really working. Luckily for Harry, Remus caved as soon as Harry brought up his desire to be able to defend himself from as many threats as possible.

Leaving Remus’s office with the promise of patronus lessons after winter break finished, there wasn’t much that could make Harry’s day better. “Now, if only I could find that bloody map.”

The Marauder’s Map was a headache. Harry had searched  everywhere . He had even payed Peeves in a limited edition version of frog spawn soap to cause a distraction. Harry had snuck into Filch’s office and rifled through all of his, extensive, files and consfications.There had been a few drawers that looked promising, labeled something similar to Extremely Dangerous, but no luck. All Harry had gotten for his troubles was the pleasure of hearing Percy Weasley rant about poltergeists and Ministry restrictions on them. All while completely green and with an unusually long tongue of course, courtesy of the limited edition frogspawn soap.

“Hello Harry,”

“We were just wondering,”

“What sort of map you were oh so clearly kicking up a fuss over?”

“Such a disappointment, The savior reduced to the need for a simple map.”

Harry tried not to show how much he did not want to be there. While he had certainly been in a good mood, the twins were unpredictable and would just as soon turn their tricks on him and any other student. “It’s not just a simple map. It’s a family heirloom that my father lost his seventh year. I’m trying to find it. If it hasn’t been chucked out by Filch already,” Harry muttered that last part under his breath. Remus was sure that it was still around but Harry wasn’t as confident. Perhaps there were protection spells on the parchment preventing it from being destroyed.

The twins looked contemplative, “A map you say?”

“An old map?”

“An heirloom?”

“A special map?”

“Have you seen it or not? I’ve been searching for a month, I even raided Flich’s office!”

“Oh, sweet little Harry.”

“Raiding old Filchie?”

“We’re impressed.”

“Let’s see, a map?”

“If it really is an heirloom,”

“Solve this!”

One of the twins pulled out a piece of parchment from nowhere and thrust it towards Harry. He stared blankly at it, no way, no way this could be the Marauder’s Map. Simply handed to him after searching for it to no avail. Of course, if anyone were to have it, it would obviously be the Weasley twins.

Only one way to find out. Harry clearly sttred, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Ink began spreading out in thin lines, spelling out the nicknames of his father and his friends. Harry’s heart clenched upon viewing the name Padfoot beside Prongs. The map unfolded to reveal a complete drawing of the castle, filled with little labeled dots that swarmed around. It was even more amazing than Remus had described.

“Well what do you know.”

“He unlocked it.”

“Say, if it’s an heirloom,”

“Who are you descended from?”

“Moony?”

“Wormtail?”

“Padfoot?”

“Prongs?”

“Prongs. My father, James Potter. He and his friends created this map.” Harry couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the map. Most of the dots were clustered in four areas now, the common rooms and dorms for each house. A few professors were scattered in different rooms and two prefects roamed the halls.

Fred and George shared some unidentifiable but definitely wicked look, “Harry. The Dark Lord vanquisher, boy who lived, scrawny thirteen year old, third year son of Prongs who was definitely behind Peeves’s acquisition of limited edition frogspawn soap.”

“We really have to thank you for that one, Percy was green tinted for ages.”

“How about a trade? You clearly know a lot about the Marauders, and we have their map. We have it memorized by now so it won’t e too much of a loss,”

“But in exchange you need to tell us about the Marauders. Their names, their stories, their legendary pranks!” The speaking twin brandished an invisible sword.

The other twin explained, “We have of course heard some stories that were passed down by older students. But those are mere shreds of the masters. You give us some real information and you get your map. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

“Good, now, a quick explanation. The names of the Marauders perhaps?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll bother you for more details later.”

“But we know you have somewhere else to sneak off to.”

Harry spluttered at the accusation, “What- how, were you watching me?”

“We watch everyone Harry,” The twins then winked at him in sync.

“Whatever. Their names? Prongs was James Potter, Wormtail was Peter Pettigrew-“

“The bloke who got blown up by Sirius Black?”

Harry continued without answering the question, “Padfoot was Sirius Black.”

The twins froze. “Woah, not expecting that.”

“Plot twist,” the other muttered.

“I’m not sure whether or not I should tell you who Moony is. He’s still alive and I’m not sure if he’d appreciate being bugged by you two.” An image of Remus cornered in his office by two very determined redheads was painted in his mind.

“A clue?”

“A hint?”

“Anything!” They pleaded in unison.

“Fine. His first name is Remus. He’s not at all what you would expect from a former pranking master.”

“Former? Oh Harry, I’m afraid you’ve wounded me quite dearly. I might just have to slip something in your tea next week.” A highly amused Remus Lupin emerged from behind a nearby tapestry.

“Professor Lupin?”

“You mean to say,”

“Our nerdy Defense Professor,”

“Was a pranking sensation?”

“Is,” Remus corrected patiently and pointedly ignored the nerdy comment. “Indeed, I am Moony. And I’m sure you two have some questions for me. Harry, we’ll include the map in our meetings from now on.”

Remus then gave the twins such a vicious smile paired with amber eyes that were suddenly a whole lot more calculating. Harry mentally reversed his imagined meeting of Fred and George and Remus. Remus would eat them alive. The two may be excellent pranksters and mischief makers, but they just weren’t on par with the dramatic stories Harry had been told over tea.

“Of course, sir. But for now I think I’d like to examine it.”

“Hm, perhaps use it for your Hogsmeade visit tomorrow. The one secret passageway under the one eyed witch statue goes straight to the Honeyduke’s cellar. Just be aware that it takes quite some time to travel on foot.” 

That particular comment had Harry remembering an odd note in his father’s journal about how fast a broom could fly in a straight line with four people on it. Flying a broom with four people down a secret passageway seemed to be exactly the kind of trouble his father and the Marauders got up to. Harry wondered if Ron and Hermione would be up to testing the speed and fly ability of three people on a broom. If they had a broom. Hermione didn’t fly, Ron’s was quite old, and, well, Harry’s broom no longer existed.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Harry. Now, Fred and George, perhaps you’d like to discuss some things in my office,” Remus gestured down the hall. Fred and George eagerly nodded as Harry turned away to explore the halls with his newfound map.

-

The Marauder’s Map was brilliant. Sadly, it was also brilliant at distracting Harry so well that he was forced to do his homework on the Knight Bus in between riders and once he got back to Hogwarts. He spent at least half an hour desperately reading through a book magical discoveries for Ancient Runes because he got distracted by the time travel section. The midnight regulars had laughed at his expense, even as they gave him advice about managing his time better.

So Harry awoke, was promptly late to breakfast, and nearly missed the carriages- where he thought he saw the strange horses again, maybe he had taken too much Wide Eye potion and was hallucinating like Hermione said could happen- to Hogsmeade. Ron and Hermione looked slightly concerned. Ron eventually asked, “Did you sleep okay mate?” As Harry realized he was wearing his shirt inside out.

“Fine, just,” He quickly flipped his shirt right side out as his friends politely averted their eyes, “Tired. I stayed up all night trying to finish homework and then I had the Knight Bus and I just couldn’t fall asleep.” He had been far too excited for that. He had something of his father’s! Something that was just his and Remus’s to share and talk about and connect good memories to.

As his friends quietly accepted his answer, besides Ron not understanding the desire to finish homework before the day it was due, Harry felt his gut twist in guilt. He was keeping another secret from them almost as soon as they found out about one of his other ones. But was it really so wrong to keep it to himself? A piece of his father that was perfectly preserved with his magic on it, a product of his friendship and skill and creativity that was not meant to be seen by anyone other than a Marauder? No, it felt like a betrayal to his father. He would tell them about the map before the school year ended, but he needed some time to have the artifact to himself.

“So where should we go this time? We visited most of the essential Hogsmeade experiences last trip. Perhaps some of the shops?” Hermione seemed eager to visit every building that had the slightest bit of history attached to it.

Ron’s input was simpler, “Definitely the Three Broomsticks again. Maybe Honeyduke’s second, so we can avoid the rest of the students coming in after we get some warm drinks?”

“That sounds good. I’m almost out of sugar quills so I want to get some more.” Harry relaxed against the carriage cushions.

The trio dissolved into chatter about Hogsmeade and the various sweets that they’d like to try. A particularly interesting conversation about how Hermione had caught Madame Pince singing lullabies to the screaming books in the Restricted Secrion was interrupted by their arrival at the village.

Leaving the carriages behind, the trio quickly hustled into the Three Broomsticks and found one of the few empty tables in the corner. There was a decorative tree placed nearby that Hermione slid over to hide Harry from any prying eyes. “Last time there were some people staring, I don’t want anyone to interrupt our trip because they got bold enough to talk to you.”

“Thanks Hermione. Ron, can you get me one of the spiced butterbeers?” Harry slid some coins across the table to Ron. While Hermione was perfectly capable of getting drinks, Ron had developed a bit of a crush on Madame Rosmerta. And who was Harry to deny Ron a chance to speak with her?

Ron blushed slightly and avoided eye contact, “Right. I’ll, uh, be right back. Very quickly, after talking to Ma- whoever is serving drinks. Yeah.”

Hermione scoffed at Ron’s retreating back, “Honestly. It’s so obvious that he fancies her, but she’s far older than him and undoubtedly has no interest.”

“It’s okay Hermione, I’m pretty sure that’s rather normal of him. At least it’s not Pansy Parkinson.” At least, Harry thought that it was normal for boys his age to like women. It wasn’t like he had any experience in fancying anybody, and didn’t find anything worthwhile in Dudley’s not well hidden magazines.

Hermione just huffed and scowled at the table as Ron returned with drinks and a red face. Harry sipped his butterbeer, filled with festive Christmas spices that warmed the chill left by the snowfall outside. The spices left him wondering if Christmas was celebrated differently by traditional wizarding families as well as Halloween.

A booming voice that Harry instantly recognized brought Harry back to the real world. He was just about to stand and greet Hagrid when he saw who was accompanying him. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, as well as the Minister himself. They had just lowered their voices as Madame Rosmerta sat down with them. Harry was just about to turn back to the conversation Ron and Hermione were having when he heard it. “Poor Peter Pettigrew, never was much of a dueler. And now, I can’t help but regret being so harsh on him.”

Professor McGonagall’s voice was quiet and grief filled, and every part of Harry was consumed by the need to  _know_ .

“-just charged right up to Black. Accused him of murdering James and Lily Potter before Black silenced him, and twelve muggle bystanders, permanently.” Minister Fudge was explaining.

“Oh, how awful. And to think Sirius and James were friends in school, and Peter always tagging along as well with sweet Remus.” Madame Rosmerta’s face took on a mournful quality.

Flitwick added, “At least Remus is alive and well. He’s teaching Defense this year and I’ve heard from Minerva that he talks regularly with young Mr. Potter. I can’t imagine his pain at being betrayed by Black. The Potters had trusted Black with the one key to their safety and safety and he handed it straight to You Know Who.”

“Oh, good for Remus. But what do you mean? Everyone knows that he betrayed the Potter’s trust, but their safety?”

Professor Flitwick explained a Fidelius charm and Ron and Hermione had finally started paying attention to the conversation. Harry clutched his glass and took another sip to prevent himself from shouting at the group to hurry up their explanation.

“So Black was entrusted as Secret Keeper.”

“And then he revealed his true colors as a traitor and servant of He Who Must Not Be Named. After he faced Pettigrew there was nothing left but a finger. And he stood there, laughing. It was terrifying and he was quite mad at that point, with his master gone as soon as he could not be protected by the light side any longer.” The Minister shivered, likely remembering the unpleasant memory.

Harry’s hands shook and he set down the glass to prevent from spilling it. Sirius Black was the reason his parents were dead. The reason that whenever he was near a dementor he would hear the final screams and pleading of his mother. The reason he was shunted away to the Dursley’s and forced into a cupboard and every family picture he tried to present to Uncle Vernon as a young child was shredded while Dudley’s were proudly posted on the refrigerator.

“And the worst part is, to this very day, Sirius Black remains Harry Potter’s godfather.”

Harry stood abruptly, hands shaking and head fuzzy. He needed to go, he need to get out, get away, leave this place and these memories and these feelings of  _helpless worthless freak_ behind. His mind barely registered two footsteps following his. He just needed to get away from it all.

The cold air but at his exposed skin but Harry barely noticed, already numb from something far worse. So he did the one thing he could think of to escape the numb and the fear and the hate and the people he did not want to see.

Harry stuck out his arm, climbed onto a familiar bus, and disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve finished writing this book and started the next one! This will be fully posted in September with my Wednesday-Saturday updates.


	13. A Breakdown on the Bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of discovering Sirius’s treachery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible trigger warning: This chapter discusses abusive/toxic families as a theme

Harry’s eyes were blurred by tears and unfocused. There was someone speaking, but it was as if his mind had been covered by a thick fog. He was vaguely aware of something soft beneath him, something warm in his hands.

“-hear me? David, are you with me? Come on kid, snap out of it. You’re safe here.”

The words coming out of his mouth felt slow and sluggish, “Where? Where am I?”

“Oh thank god. You are on the Knight Bus. We lowered one of the seats into bed form and put up privacy charms. You’re with me, Gwen. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Gwen’s freckled face was twisted with worry and concern in a way it should never look.

“Sirius Black. He, he... family, traitor.  _He’s the reason_ .” Harry managed to choke out the words that were stuck in his throat.

Gwen just looked confused and her brows furrowed in concentration. She made the motion of pulling a curtain back with her wand and then called out, “Ernie, can you bring in Stan. I’m going to be occupied for a while I think.”

“Yeah I’ll apparate to him quick. Should I just close the bus for a bit?” Ernie took both hands off the wheel and turned around to look at Gwen.

“That might be for the best. Alright David, I’m going to go steer the bus for a little while until Stan gets here and he can drive. As soon as the rest of the passengers are dropped off we can shut the bus down.” Gwen squeezed Harry’s shoulder and he subconsciously leaned into it before she pulled away.

There was the now familiar crack of apparation. The odd sensation of teleporting on the Knight Bus. The smell of hot chocolate wafted up from the mug in his hands. Harry took a tentative sip, just to have something else to occupy his mind. Something beside Sirius Black and secret keepers and murdered parents who trusted the man who enabled their killer until their final moments.

There was another teleport and tires squealed as breaks were slammed. Two sets of footsteps climbing aboard. “‘Onestly Ern, what’s goin’ on? You jus’ appeared and said somethin’ about David and Gwennie drivin’ and closin’ the bus for a bit. You better explain what the ‘ell is goin’ on, I was sleepin’!” Stan sounded flustered, slipping further and further into his accent.

Harry looked up and met Stan’s eyes. He paled and gave Harry a look eerily similar to the one the twins gave him when they saw the metal bars across his window. “Flutterin’ fairies, what ‘appened?”

Gwen stood and allowed Ernie to slip back into the driver’s seat. “He said something about Sirius Black and his family. Be patient, there’s just one passenger left and Ernie’s bringing us to their stop now.”

Indeed, the bus lurched again as the Knight Bus was suddenly elsewhere. Ernie slammed on the brakes and Stan hurried upstairs to collect said passenger. The young man escorted downstairs sent a small glare towards the rest of the employees but left without complaint. Stan asked, “Can you jump us somewhere else now?”

“Just one more jump for the next half hour or else we risk sentience. Perhaps close to Hogsmeade but far away from the wizarding buildings.” Ernie nodded to himself and pulled the lever to teleport the bus once again.

As the Knight Bus landed on a small road surrounded by snow covered fields Harry dug his nails into his palms. The small yet sharp pain cleared his mind slightly as Gwen, Stan, and Ernie transformed the seat in front of him into bed form and sat down. “Alright David-“

Harry cut of Ernie, “Harry. My name is Harry Potter, not David Thorin. I- I am sorry for lying to you for so long.”

“Oh don’t mention it. And we already knew, you are kind of recognizable, even with different colored hair.” Gwen smiled assuringly.

Harry absent mindedly muttered, “Should have guessed you’d notice.”

“So,” Ernie started again. “Sirius Black?”

The name alone flooded his eyes with tears and Harry clenched his fists. “He knew my dad. Was friends with him. Was his  brother in all but blood. And he got them killed.”

The three adults across him certainly didn’t seem to have expected that. Stan was openly gaping, Gwen’s face was not unlike the students who first saw the petrified Mrs. Norris, and Ernie. Ernie just looked sad and deeply regretful. “I knew that they knew each other, and were at least friends. One night, around twenty years ago, a young Sirius Black rode this bus. He was crying his eyes out, covered in odd curse marks, whimpering about a little brother. He requested to be brought to Potter Manor before he passed out. I never saw him again.”

Harry tried not to think too hard about that. Tried not to imagine how Sirius got those curse marks and connect that to the occasional complaint about Sirius receiving howlers from his parents in his father’s journal. Tried not to think about the few times that Uncle Vernon had gotten mad enough about strange events that he threw random items from the kitchen, the way Aunt Petunia figured out that after being hit by a frying pan once he was terrified by them flying his way even if they came nowhere near his face. So to not think about that, Harry instead thought about Sirius Black willingly giving over the information that led Voldemort to his parent’s doorstep.

“There was a charm on my parents house. A really powerful spell that hid it from anyone besides the Secret Keeper.”

Ernie nodded in understanding, “The Fidelius Charm. One trusted person to keep the secret and keep the hidden people safe. And the Secret Keeper was...”

“Sirius Black,” Harry spat out bitterly. “My dad called him family, trusted him with his life, named him my godfather!”

“Oh Harry, I’m so sorry.” Gwen placed her hand on top of Harry’s.

“I grew up with my,” Harry paused, “Relatives. My mum’s sister hates magic and so does her husband. They hated me ever since I was found on their doorstep on November first.”

Gwen flinched as he mentioned Aunt Petunia hating magic, “My dad is a squib. He hates the wizarding world because he couldn’t be a part of it with his dad. He’s so scared that it will take me away too that he drives me away himself.”

Stan’s eyes were filled with tears as he added, “I get it Harry. My family was awful too, ‘ated everythin’ about me. Wasn’t ever good ‘nough for them. ‘Ad to be more man and less nice, better at school and meaner to my older sis’. They kicked me out when I was sixteen, ‘cause I dropped out of school. Said they wouldn’t support no sissy man who wouldn’t ever be able to get a job. Forbid me from seein’ my sis’ ever again. ‘Aven’t seen ‘er in almost two years now, I’m cursed to stop me from seein’ ‘er in person. I send one letter a month ‘cause sometimes they still check her mail even though she lives on ‘er own.”

Momentarily distracted, Harry burst out, “Stan, that’s awful! Why have you not contacted the Ministry to remove the curse?” Harry couldn’t imagine having a sibling and being forced away from them.

Ernie then spoke up, “Ministry won’t do jack and shit. Where were they when my father put an obedience spell on me as a kid? Approving it! Damn bastards let him control my every decision for years. So no, they wouldn’t help Stan.”

“Well, I actually only contacted the Ministry once. They said that if my sis’ didn’t want it removed they wouldn’t take it off. And of course my parents won’t let ‘er day she wants it removed. She’s scared they’ll abandon ‘er like they did me. She was always the favorite child and she doesn’t know ‘ow to live without them breathin’ down ‘er neck. But at least I ‘ave ‘er, you didn’t ‘ave anyone.”

Dudley and his gang beating him black and blue until he learned how to run faster, kids ignoring him, teachers whispering behind his back, neighbors eyeing him as he walked down the street. “No, I didn’t have anyone. And that’s his fault. All I wanted as a kid was some relative to come and take me away. But he’s the one who put me there. My last living magical family member, and the reason I only have one.”

“Hey, darling, you’re not alone anymore. You’ve got Stan, and Ernie, and me. We’re family now, you’re not alone.” Gwen embraces Harry again, warm and comforting and  _family_ .

The other two joined in on the hug, holding Harry still in a cocoon of love. Was this family? It certainly wasn’t the Dursleys.

Family was old photographs and a few heirlooms. Family was the weight of his father’s invisibility cloak on his back. Family was his mother’s red hair and green eyes his father’s knobbly knees that combined in him. Family was the stories Remus told and the notes in a battered journal. Family was graves on the Day of the Veil. Family was dead and gone and untouchable. Family was faces in a mirror that could show anything, but only showed faces that were close by yet cold and unattainable.

But maybe this could be family too. Not blood, but bonds of trust and understanding. Maybe Harry could have a family after all, maybe he didn’t have to keep searching for warmth from cold graves. He still loved Lily and James Potter, as well as his grandparents, but now he had more. He had another grandfather in Ernie, an older brother in Stan, and a better aunt in Gwen.

-

After quite a while, Ernie brought Harry back to the gates separating Hogsmeade and the road to Hogwarts. “Don’t be afraid to owl any of us. In fact, do owl us. At least once a week. Tell us about your day, what you learned, anything! Just write to us.”

After Ernie finished speaking Stan pulled Harry in for another hug. He whispered into Harry’s ear, “If you ever need to get away from those relatives of yours, just send me a letter. I’ve got my own place and there’s a couch that you can call ‘ome for a bit.”

“Thanks Stan, I’ll be sure to tell you.” Privately, Harry didn’t want to intrude on Stan and promised himself that he wouldn’t stay with Stan unless absolutely necessary.

Harry grabbed the very last carriage, barely even noticing the flash of a skeletal horse, and settled in for the ride back to the castle. He certainly had to ask Remus about Sirius Black at their next meeting. So far they had just discussed his parents, and not the second topic of Black. That had to change. Harry needed to know what Remus knew about Sirius Black.

The horseless carriage slowed to a halt and Harry clambered out. He swiped at his face to make sure no tears lingered, and entered the castle. The long walk up to Gryffindor tower did not help get rid of the lingering chill from outside and the warm common room was a welcome change. But as soon as he stepped through the portrait hole, two figures bounded into him and wrapped him in what seemed like his hundredth hug that day. Poor Harry, overwhelmed by so much physical contact in such a short amount of time, pulled backwards away from the figures. 

Ron and Hermione wore identical worried faces and looked rather frazzled. Instead of relieving their concerns, he simply stated, “Come up to the dorms. I’ll explain.”

And so the trio sat on Harry’s bed with the curtains drawn and a silencing spell cast. Words flowed out of Harry’s mouth like a river of pain and secrets. He revealed how he had already known that Sirius was his godfather, explained the friendship between his father and Sirius, and confessed that he did not know that Sirius had been Secret Keeper. His friends, his wonderful, faithful friends, sat through it all and listened. They gasped and spoke words of comfort and by the end of it, Harry was half asleep as they pulled his blankets over him and left for their own beds, hearts heavier with the full knowledge of Sirius Black’s treachery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aunt Petunia did actually throw a frying pan at Harry’s head once. I can’t remember what book it was but he ducked a pan deliberately thrown at him.


	14. Sensible Adult is Worried About Child’s Near Death Experiences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to Bathilda Bagshot and Christmas at the castle.

Christmas break truly felt like Christmas break now. Snow was falling and presents were being bought and Harry miserably wore two pairs of socks every day. He had hated winter for as long as he could remember, because it only meant cold nights huddled in a dark corner and wrapped in his one thin blanket and Christmas morning with no presents for him and snow thrown at him so his clothes were cold and wet for hours. Harry didn’t like winter but at least it was okay at Hogwarts.

Following the heartbreaking reveal of Sirius Black’s full betrayal, Harry spent a lot of time throwing himself into his studies or working all day on the Knight Bus. He had completely finished all of his Christmas break homework and was a month ahead in the readings and had started to raid the library for whatever books caught his eye. It didn’t heal the hurt and anger in his chest, but it did help ease his mind. As did talking to his coworkers- no, his family- and the midnight regulars.

Gary in particular was a great listener. The elderly man would carefully listen to all of Harry’s worries and anger and hatred before gently pulling him out of it. He was surely thinking of his family, completely lost to the war, as he told Harry, “Mourn, but do not dwell. You have suffered a great tragedy but you must not lose yourself in it. Trust me.”

So Harry mourned and tried his best not to dwell. It was hard at first, so very hard, but he tore his mind away from Sirius Black. He also stopped himself from drowning in books and instead spent more time with his friends, to their great relief.

Two days before Christmas, Harry found himself holding a letter. It was incredibly rare for Harry to have a letter outside of the summer months and he was wary before he read the sender’s name. Bathilda Bagshot.

That night Harry, and Lucy, took his incredibly expensive and definitely worth it portkey necklace to the destroyed house in Godric’s Hollow. He shivered despite his mittens and cozy Weasley sweater and hurried off towards Bathilda’s house.

He knocked on the door and it almost immediately opened. “Hello Harry dear. Oh, and Lucy too! How wonderful to see you again.”

Harry stepped inside and step Lucy down before pulling off his snow covered shoes. Lucy wound herself around Bathilda’s legs several times while purring like a muggle lawnmower. Dodging around the stacks of books that seemed to have only grown since his last visit, Harry approached the small dining room and sat at one of the two chairs. Bathilda emerged from the book covered kitchen with two cups of hot chocolate that held an excess of marshmallows.

Harry gratefully took the warm mug and took a sip. “Thank you, for the hot chocolate and for inviting me.”

“Oh nonsense, you’re welcome whenever you want. I just wanted to make sure you knew that. And perhaps I’m a little selfish to want some company around the holidays.” Bathilda smiled at Harry, warm and kind with soft eyes surrounded by wrinkled skin. She exuded a sense of safety and kind old woman. She reminded Harry of Dumbledore, if Dumbledore were less concerned with how he would find another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and more concerned with how his students were dealing with almost dying. Perhaps it was that comparison which brought bitter thoughts to mind.

“Come now dear, I can see that something is one your mind. Several things if I’m even more correct. And I often am, in my old age.”

Harry struggled to find the words, “I- I feel.” He took a deep breath and blurted it out, “I’ve nearly died so many times at school for a thirteen year old and Dumbledore hasn’t even talked to me outside of giving some kind of weird thank you for your service to the school!”

Bathilda looked deeply troubled, but she was obviously trying to hide it. Harry continued, “I just, I don’t know. I nearly fell off my cursed broom in my first quidditch match, on my first Halloween a troll could have killed me, Quirrell tried to kill me, a cursed bludger nearly killed me but only broke my arm, last year the basilisk,” Harry swallowed hard. “Last year the basilisk did kill me, I was about to die when Fawkes healed me. And this year I’ve already fallen off my broom and broken bones because of the dementors. Sirius Black has broken into the castle once and nearly got into my dorm while I was out. And he hasn’t said anything! No one has.” Harry trailed off, embarrassed at his outburst and fearful that Bathilda would just tell him to stop whining.

“Oh Harry,” and then there were warm hands clutching his. “I am so sorry that you’ve had to go through all of that. And I am especially sorry that nobody ever helped you afterwards. Those kind of experiences aren’t easily moved passed by anyone, let alone a child.”

Harry closed his eyes and let himself imagine, for just a moment, that he didn’t go out of his way to avoid the third floor or panic when he thought of the girls bathroom and if he had been just a minute later on that Halloween. He let himself pretend that he didn’t have nightmares of the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny lifeless on the floor and a young Tom Riddle holding his wand while a basilisk fang slowly killed him and Ron kept on waiting for a friend and sister who would never come back. Then he opened his eyes, and exhaled.

“But I’m not just a child am I? I’m the boy who lived, the savior of the wizarding world.” Harry whispered this, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“But you are a child first. Drink some more hot chocolate, and we shall speak of more pleasant things if you wish.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Harry took another sip of the sweet drink, “Lucy has settled well. She doesn’t like when the dorm room is closed but other than that she enjoys having a home I think. She also seems confused by Scabbers, my friend Ron’s pet rat. She’ll just bat him around a bit and sniff him, hiss, then walk off to meet with my other friend Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks.”

Bathilda smiled over her mug, “Perhaps she is confused that she doesn’t need to hunt her own food anymore. She is given meals but there is some prey right in front of her. Kneazles are smart, maybe she recognizes that Scabbers should not be food but she is still interested in him.”

“Maybe. Oh! I met Remus Lupin, he’s the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” Harry fondly thought of his scholarly professor who always had a different creature and a stash of chocolate in his office.

“Oh really? He always was such a nice young man. I didn’t see him for several months before your parents went into hiding, but that’s what war does to people. Is he a good teacher? I do hope he’s getting his Defense history right, as a woman deeply invested in our history.”

Deeply invested was perhaps an understatement. Bathilda Bagshot had written one of the most popular history books ever,  A History of Magic , as well as ten other well known history books. She was the History of Magic professor before Professor Binns had gotten the position, while still living at the time, and had lived through the reign of Grindelwald and Voldemort. Bathilda was invited to every single magical knowledge gathering, had written a great many articles in several magazines and newspapers, was regarded as the greatest magical historian of the century, as well as the only human Scholar in two centuries. The rest were in a reclusive group of vampires.

Harry grinned at her, “Remus is a great professor. He does explain the histories if the creatures we learn about and I think that you would approve of his lessons. Speaking of history, did you manage to get that ancient scroll that described a flying spell?”

“Ah! Yes, I did. Of course, it’s in Greek but I have the rough translation and I don’t speak twelve languages for nothing. So far it has described a bit of terribly old ritual magic and not a true spell. There is no spell that allows for flight, only levitation or weightlessness which some consider the same thing, but this may be the closest any magical being has gotten. The museum librarian who sent it to me seemed to think I wouldn’t find anything new, but that’s not the point is it?”

“The point is to further your own understanding and if you can, to further the world’s understanding,” Harry parroted back Bathilda’s favorite phrase. It was in the about the author section of all of her books and in the few letters she and Harry had exchanged she used it in all of them.

“That’s my boy. So how are the rest of your classes? Is Cuthbert as bad as ever?”

Harry let out a noise of disgust, “Binns is the worst teacher ever. Even worse than Snape and he literally sabotages my work sometimes. I really love Ancient Runes though, Professor Babbling is nice and she actually seems to like me a lot.”

“I think it’s time for me to send Dumbledore another letter asking for Cuthbert to resign. Honestly, peaceful ghost interactions be damned, he can’t teach anything as a ghost.” Bathilda calmed herself, “But alas. Dumbledore seems keen to keep his worst teachers on staff for as long as possible. Professor Snape should have been fired a long time ago from what you tell me, blatantly bullying students.” She descended into another fit of angry mumbling. “I am glad that you find enjoyment in Ancient Runes, it’s quite the intriguing subject though I myself am not a Master Runist.”

“You say that as if you couldn’t be a Master in any subject you wished. Runes is great though, it just clicks for me. I was like that with muggle mathematics as well but that’s not taught at Hogwarts.” The lack of muggle yet still necessary skills being taught at Hogwarts occasionally horrified Harry. How did any wizards learn to manage their vaults, or even spell properly?

Bathilda laughed, “While I am knowledgeable in a great many subjects, I have not approached mastery in most of them. As for mathematics not being taught at Hogwarts? Ah yes, the strange lack of real life skill classes often befuddles muggleborns. Most children have tutors when they’re younger if their parents are wealthy enough. They are trained in all manner of subjects and may even learn the theory behind magic until they can have their own wands. Those not as well off are taught by their parents or older siblings who have had schooling.”

Harry nodded and took in the information dump. Bathilda often took one offhand comment and gave a short but thorough explanation of the topic and sometimes the history or social view of it. It was incredibly useful for learning about odd things or obscure knowledge, but could also wear out his brain.

The pair kept talking and talking, about school and war and learning and loss, until the sun was low in the orange colored sky. Bathilda patted Harry’s cheek and gave Lucy a quick pet. “Come visit me for your Easter holidays, alright? Now get back to Hogwarts safe, it’s cold out there dear.”

The weather was cold but Harry felt warm inside in a way that had less to do with the hot chocolate and more to do with the care he had been shown.

-

Christmas morning was as hectic and wonderful as ever at Hogwarts. Ron and Harry carried their piles of presents down to the common room where they were greeted by a cheerful Hermione who was already in her Weasley sweater, a deep blue one with a pure white quill on the front. Harry opened his immediately after sitting down and was pleased to find it a crimson red with the Gryffindor lion emblazoned on the front. Ron’s, as ever, was a shade of maroon that he despised. His had a black knight chess piece reminiscent of his position in their first year deadly chess match.

The three piles slowly dwindled as presents were opened. Harry had gifted Hermione special ink that wouldn’t smudge or stain fingers. For Ron he had gotten a subscription to a quidditch magazine. He had also sent gifts to the other Knight Bus workers, a book on runes for Stan, one on wandlore for Gwen who had shown an interest in her grandfathers craft, and a nice looking necklace for Ernie that had ‘overthrow the government’ engraved on the small tag that hung from the chain. For Remus he had bought an expensive box of Honeyduke’s finest chocolates and a foreign type of tea, for Bathilda he had found a recently published book detailing the earliest goblin war.

Among various other things Harry had so far received a detailed drawing of himself wielding the sword of Gryffindor and beheading a snake that Ron had commissioned from Dean, a book on the differences between runes from different cultures from Hermione, a ring that blocked minor compulsion charms from Ernie, a thin book on hair and cosmetic charms from Stan, and a custom pin from Gwen that read ‘definitely not Harry Potter’. But by far the best gift he had gotten was the scrapbook. Bathilda and Remus had apparently owled each other to collaborate on the book, each contributing many pictures of his parents in their youth or as young adults sometimes accompanied by a baby Harry. He had carefully placed it at the edge of his pile so he could look through it later in private. Harry was sure that it, along with his scrapbook from Hagrid and the invisibility cloak and the Marauder’s Map, would become one of his most prized possessions.

And then he reached the last package. There was a sense of deja vu as he looked down at the vaguely broom shaped present. He had been dearly missing his Nimbus 2000 but surely Professor McGonagall hadn’t bought him another one. They were still quite expensive, even two years later. Harry tore open the wrapping paper and gasped open mouthed. It was a  _firebolt_ .

After that, things got complicated. Hermione was saying something about the teachers and Ron was shouting about quidditch and Harry held the broom in his hands and begged Hermione not to tell. But then Hermione was gone and McGonagall was there and the broom was taken.

Ron shouted, red faced, “You don’t even care about the broom! You just hate quidditch! Can’t you see that it’s important!” Before storming back up to the dorm to stew.

Hermione looked incredibly distressed but Harry couldn’t bring himself to care. A wave of anger had washed over him, “Why did you do that? I need a new broom and the Firebolt is the nicest one there is!”

“That’s exactly why I did it! Somebody bought you that broom because they knew you loved quidditch and would use it. Somebody who didn’t sign the broom or anything, they could be anyone!” Hermione burst out, looking on the verge of crying.

“What? It’s a bad thing that someone was nice?”

“It could be jinxed or cursed or any number of awful things! Everybody knows you like to fly Harry, what if someone sent you that broom to get you hurt and you fell for it.”

Harry wanted to demand who she thought would do such a thing. Why would Voldemort bother buying an expensive broom when he seemed to prefer trying to kill Harry himself? But then, Sirius Black came to mind as well. He was certainly wealthy enough to get one if the goblins let him access his vaults.

Hermione seemed to take his silence for more anger, “Harry, please. I just don’t want you to get hurt. I had to watch you hold onto your broom with one hand at your first match because someone tampered with it. I just want to be sure. I thought that you’d appreciate me caring.” Her voice was suspiciously choked now and Harry felt anger be replaced by guilt. Had he really made Hermione cry? Over a broomstick?

“I’m sorry Hermione. I’m glad that you care about me. I’m really sorry for shouting at you, you know I get stupid about quidditch. Friends?” The apology felt awkward even to Harry’s ears.

Hermione didn’t seem to mind as she flung herself into Harry’s arms, “Friends.”

The hug broke off after a couple more seconds. Harry took Hemione’s hand, “C’mon, let’s go get Ron for breakfast.”

The pair walked up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. From within the room Harry heard a faint, “-as so upset about his Nimbus. I just want him to be happy but I guess I just yelled instead.”

Gently knocking on the door, Harry pushed it open to reveal Ron sitting on his bed while Scabbers sniffed around for food, ignoring his owner. “Hey Ron, ready for breakfast?”

Ron nearly fell backwards and awkwardly pretended he hadn’t been talking to his rat. “Er, yeah. Do you think they’ll have those tarts again?”

“Maybe. Come on, Hermione and I made up, now it’s your turn.”

“Oh, um,” Ron rubbed the back of his head and averted his eyes. “I’m sorry for shouting Hermione. I guess the broom could be cursed and it was for Harry’s safety and everything. So, sorry, again.”

“Apology accepted Ronald, now let’s go see if they have those tarts.” Hermione smiled gently at Ron as the trio left the tower. The day was shaping up to be a great Christmas.

“Happy Christmas guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a slow chapter but I wanted Harry to have another adult that is Concerned™️. You can bet that Dumbledore receives a very angry letter from renowned author and woman who has seen Dumbledore as a child, Bathilda Bagshot, that makes him quiver in his incredibly fancy boots. Seriously, Harry has nearly died so many times, why has no one talked to him about this!? Also, world building! I’ve started a separate document with just my headcanons for the KBC universe. You can’t expect me to write a famous historian character and not info dump about anything and everything right? I did try to tone it down a bit but I don’t think I succeeded. Also, something to think about, Ron and Harry always opened presents in their dorm if I remember correctly. The other girls went home for Christmas. Did Hermione open presents alone?  
> Writing goal progress: I’ve written almost 50000 words? Holy shit?


	15. A Presumably Swallowed Scabbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patronus lessons with Lupin, the return of the Firebolt, and the assumed murder of a rat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh Remus’s life is just, so depressing? He’s lost so much at this point and he just really wants to help Harry but he also has, like, a ton of issues with self love and worth.

As promised, Remus dutifully began to teach Harry how to repel dementors after the winter holidays ended. Harry stood in Remus’s office, trying to ignore the rattling chest next to him, as Remus spoke. “The one way to ward off dementors is the patronus charm. It is an incredibly difficult and tricky piece of magic, far above NEWT level. Even your father and I, gifted students as we were, only managed a true patronus as fifth years. So do not be discouraged if you can’t make a corporeal patronus, or even the incorporeal version.”

Harry nodded and Remus went on to explain the wand movement and need for a happy memory.  _Those are a bit hard to come by for me_ , Harry thought bitterly. So when Remus opened the chest and the dementor boggart flew out, he struggled to find something happy.

“Expecto patronum!” He shouted as if it would make the spell work, as if it would shield him from the advancing cold. Harry tried to focus on flying and winning the Quidditch cup, but he succumbed to darkness. Faintly, he heard screams that were becoming horribly familiar. In a way, he longed to hear his mother’s voice, but it could only be found in a creature of fear.

Harry was roused by a soft touch to his shoulder, “Come on Harry. Sit up, slowly now, even fake dementors are draining. Here, have some chocolate.”

Carefully, Harry sat up. “Why am I on the floor?” He asked before biting into the offered chocolate frog.

“The presence of the dementor overwhelmed you and you passed out.” Remus seemed to notice the embarrassment on Harry’s face, “There is nothing shameful about it. When exposed directly to a dementor most people will pass out fairly quickly. Sadly for you, they seem to have fixated on you.”

Harry burst out, “I don’t understand why! They just came towards me during the Quidditch match, and I was the only one to pass out on the train too.”

“That’s simply because you have experienced so many horrible things for your age. Dementors feed off of pleasant emotions and happy memories. Though feed is possibly an inaccurate term, but I won’t get into that. They wish to reside in places of despair, so they try to remove anything good from a person. Their favorite targets are those who have the most trauma and would therefore create the best environment for the dementor. And while you may have been the only one to pass out, you were far from the only one effected. I remember Mr. Longbottom and Ms. Weasley also having to go to the Hospital Wing. I was informed that Ms. Weasley had been possessed by a malicious object last year and may require assistance in acclimating to school life and avoiding dementors.”

Harry thought that malicious object was a bit of an understatement, but refrained from saying so. Instead he simply said, “I think I understand. Can I try again?”

“Of course. Possibly try to find a stronger happy memory.”

And so it went. Harry tried to scrounge up happy memories and hit repeatedly knocked down by the boggart dementor. Remus would give him chocolate and encouragement, and he would try again. Until something changed.

“I,” Harry paused, “I heard my dad that time. He, he died first. I’ve never heard my dad’s voice before.” Harry felt sick to his stomach and stayed sitting down on the floor of Remus’s office.

Remus himself looked pale and his eyes seemed haunted. He finally spoke, “I knew that he died first. When I, found them, he was near the door. I’m so sorry that that was his you had to hear him.”

Harry thought of Remus, just a few years of out Hogwarts and in the middle of a war. Thought of him arriving at his parents’ home when he heard the news, of seeing his friends lifeless in the ruins of their home while Harry had already been whisked away to the Dursley’s. Thought of Remus, alone after a war, burying his friends all by himself because the rest of their families were dead or hated them and his friends were all dead or traitors in jail. It had been twelve years since then, and Remus hadn’t once mentioned any other friends or family. The sick feeling in Harry’s stomach only got worse.

“I’m going to to try again.”

Remus’s face scrunched in worry, “Are you sure? Just one more time, you’ve been doing this for awhile.”

Harry took a deep breath and readied himself. Remus unlocked the chest and he thought of sitting on the Knight Bus, of hugging his new family and learning about them and never having to go back to the Dursley’s again. The cold was enveloping Harry but he stayed strong as he cast the spell, “Expecto patronum!”

A brilliant white mist spread out of the end of his wand, drifting through the air in an obscure shape that guarded him. The fake dementors recoiled backwards as the mist forced its way forwards. Remus added his own incorporeal patronus and together they forced it back into the chest, which was promptly locked.

“Well done Harry! Even an incorporeal patronus is incredibly difficult for someone your age.”

“Thank you for teaching me. I have to ask though, why don’t you use your corporeal patronus?” Harry flinched as soon as the question left his mouth, that was rude and he shouldn’t ask questions.

Remus smiled, it was small and tired, “I was wondering when you’d ask. I suppose I don’t need to use the corporeal one to force the dementors back as they are meant to be here and I don’t want to accidentally kill them. But I fear it’s also a combination of disgust for my own patronus and that most of my happy memories were with people that I now associate sadness with. Expecto patronum.”

Remus waved his wand lazily and a dazzling silver wolf burst forth. “As you can see, it seems every aspect of my life seems to loop back to my curse.” He gave that same horrible smile again, sad and lost, that had no place on his young professor’s face. But war was not kind, as Harry well knew, and Remus had lived through one.

Harry struggles for a moment to come up with something to say. Admiring the glowing wolf, he finally decided on, “I think it’s beautiful. Wolves are loyal aren’t they? Protectors? It makes sense for a patronus, and you, I think.”

Remus stilled, “Thank you, Harry. I’d like to think of it that way as well. Now, go on back to your dorm. It’s almost curfew time and I don’t want to here from Minerva that you got into trouble because of me. You did good tonight.”

“Thanks, Remus. I’ll be on my way now.”

Taking his time to return to the tower, Harry admired the setting sun. It glinted off the snow covered grounds, bathing the castle in soft oranges and pinks. He enjoyed the peace before walking the last stretch to Gryffindor Tower. The sounds of some kind of party were already emanating from behind the portrait of Sir Cadogan.

“Do you wish to pass into these chambers, young scoundrel? Duel me, or turn back!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “The password is Oddsbolikins.”

“Ah. Yes. Of course. Proceed on your quest!” The portrait swung open, revealing what appeared to be the entire house of Gryffindor crowded around Ron and Professor McGonagall.

“Professor? What’s g-“

“Harry! Your Firebolt is back! And it was completely safe!”

Indeed, Ron was enthusiastically brandishing the Firebolt, which looked as new and undamaged as ever. Harry gingerly took it, ran his hands over the smooth wood and perfectly groomed bristles, and beamed at McGonagall. “Thank you Professor!”

“Of course, Mr. Potter. I can’t have you playing against Ravenclaw on a school broom. I do rather enjoy keeping the Quidditch Cup in my office. I wish you luck at your game.” She then swiftly left the tower as everybody cheered. Oliver Wood was sobbing into Katie Bell’s shoulder

“Well, Ron, do you want to have a go tomorrow?”

Ron’s jaw dropped, “Really? Yes!”

And suddenly everybody was clamoring around Harry.

“Where’d you get it?”

“Can I touch it?”

“Ravenclaw doesn’t stand a chance!”

“Can I hold it, Harry?”

After the attention died down slightly and Harry could stop cringing under expecting stares, he turned back to Ron. “I’ve got to bring this upstairs before I leave. I’m going to grab my invisibility cloak to slip out, I think.”

“Oh I’ll bring it up for you Harry. The cloak and your uniform are in your trunk right? I need to give Scabbers his rat tonic anyway.”

Harry smiled and Ron worshipfully took the broomstick. He disappeared up to the dorms and Harry made his way over to Hermione, who had claimed an entire table to herself and was completely surrounded by books.

“Hey Hermione.” Harry moved a stack of Arithmancy books off a chair.

“Oh, I see you got it back then.” Harry suppressed a wince. When Hermione faced him she revealed deep eye bags and a drained looking face.

“Yeah, I did. Listen, Hermione, are you okay? You’re taking every single elective, half of which are at the same time, and you’ve apparently never missed class. I’m really worried about you and it’s not even possible for you to have been-“

“Don’t be silly Harry, you can’t be in two places at once,” She distractedly muttered, pulling a piece of homework closer.

“I never said that. I was going to say that it’s not possible for you to have been getting enough sleep with all of this work.” Then Harry caught a glimmer of something gold glinting around her neck. Slowly he began, “Hermione, how hard is it to get a Ministry approved time turner?”

Still seemingly half asleep Hermione actually responded, “You need a reliable voucher, a moral reason, and a character judgement. Wait.” She snapped into awareness, “Harry, it’s not what-“

“Not what I’m thinking? Then what’s the necklace you’re wearing?” Hermione shrunk into herself. “It’s okay, I came across them while I was reading about some of the greatest magical discoveries while trying to find something for Ancient Runes. I won’t tell, just, how did you manage to get one for  _extra classes_ ? Also, isn’t that cheating?”

Hermione laughed, but it was shrill and nervous sounding. “I had to be interviewed at the Ministry, and Professor McGonagall vouched for me. Apparently they’ll allow teenagers control of time if they seem to have a promising future. Of course it’s all heavily regulated by Professor McGonagall. I can only use a certain amount of hours a week and it will be taken away for the week of exams only to be given back for when exams are at the same time. I don’t even use it for anything but attending classes! I do all of my homework on my own time and I’m doing fine.”

Harry leveled a stare at her, “Hermione, you are most certainly not fine. You aren’t even using it to sleep? You always tell me to take care of myself but you should do the same.”

She sighed and pushed some books to the side, “I know that. I’m just, stressed. And I really don’t want to use more time than necessary because I don’t want to age excessively.”

“One or two naps a week won’t hurt. Promise me you’ll take better care of yourself, okay?”

“Okay.” Hermione smiled weakly and her head almost slammed into the desk as she seemed to momentarily fall sleep. “I think I see what you’re say-“

“LOOK!” Ron had materialized in front of them while they were distracted, brandishing a bedsheet.

“What?” Hermione squinted at the sheet.

“LOOK! SCABBERS! LOOK!”

Hermione leaned back away from Ron and peered at the sheets. Her face paled and Harry soon found what she had seen. There was something on the sheets that looked horribly gruesome.

“BLOOD!” Ron bellowed, red faced and tears in his eyes, “HE’S GONE! AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT I FOUND ON THE FLOOR?”

“Ron I’m, I’m sorry but what-“

“Ginger cat hair,” Ron spat, tossing down a clump of orange fur that was unmistakably from Crookshanks.

-

Harry couldn’t remember a time where Ron and Hermione had fought so badly. They both refused to speak to each other or apologize and tensions only grew. Scabbers was missing, most likely dead, and Crookshanks seemed to antagonize Ron by sneaking into the boy’s dorms where he would eventually be forcibly thrown out. Personally, Harry thought Crookshanks was just sneaking in to meet with Lucy, who was still on Ron’s good side.

There wasn’t even a clear right side. Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, but most cats eat rats. Crookshanks was allowed to wander around the tower but so had Scabbers. Hermione refused to apologize for the death of Scabbers, which Harry thought she should, and Ron was increasingly nasty in his comments about her. Overall, Harry was sick of it and just wanted his friends to be friends again.

Nothing could get Ron’s mind off Scabbers for long. He was briefly happy when he got to ride the Firebolt around but soon after the twins brought him up in discussion again. They claimed Ron hadn’t even liked Scabbers and that he could just buy another rat at the upcoming Hogsmeade visit. This, unsurprisingly, did not improve Ron’s mood at all. Neither did his grades dropping because there was no Hermione to copy from and remind him to do his work. Harry tried but Ron seemed determined to ignore any and all advice that sounded like something Hermione would say.

When Harry confronted Hermione and tried to convince her that Crookshanks had likely eaten Scabbers, she blew up at him as well. “Of course you’re taking his side, I knew you would! Ron hasn’t even bothered looking for Scabbers and those hairs could have been from Christmas. He’s had it out for Crookshanks since he landed on him in Diagon Alley. Why doesn’t he suspect  your cat. Lucy liked playing around with Scabbers even more than Crookshanks!”

For that last statement, Harry had decidedly left Hermione alone. Sure, Lucifer pawed Scabbers around a bit. But Crookshanks actively hunted him down and attempted to kill him. Lucy was perfectly content to be fed real food and not be required to hunt for every meal like she had had to.

Eventually Harry just had to ignore the fight altogether as his days were filled with homework and extra quidditch practice in preparation for the upcoming Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw match. Oliver was trying to cram in as much practice as possible because the Ravenclaw seeker, Cho Chang, had recovered from her sprained wrist. Of course, nervously expecting the Grim to show up everywhere did not help Harry’s nerves as the match approached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I am not at all inspired to write currently and I only have 1000 words to go until 50000 in the past month. TKBC has a sequel that has been started (currently working on chapters 7/8) and planned out so updates will be continuing as usual for the next month or so. I might have a short break in between the end of this book and posting The Worthy Of Fire. I am very not looking forward to school starting in a month but will try to keep up my writing schedule because I am super invested in the series now.  
> Other news: I’m posting a one shot today called Children Born From War, Raised in War that’s just about the students of Hogwarts in general during the events of HP.


	16. Stag and Stab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ravenclaw/Gryffindor Quidditch match has arrived and tension between Ron and Hermione has reached its climax. Can someone please get Harry a headache reliever?

Breakfast before the Quidditch match was always eventful. The Firebolt only seemed to increase the crowd and chatter. Students from all four houses craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the broom that Oliver had set on the center of the table.

Eventually Malfoy himself sauntered over. “Sure you can handle that broom, Potter?”

“Yeah, I think I can. Why, scared that I’ll beat you in our next match?”

“As if. Shame that it doesn’t come with a built in parachute for the next time you decide to take a dive off the side.”

“Yeah? And it’s a shame that yours doesn’t have an extra arm attached to catch the Snitch for you. What, could your daddy not bribe your way into winning every match?” Harry snarled, feeling particularly vicious from the stress of his friends’ fighting.

The Gryffindor team laughed and Malfoy scowled before stalking back to the Slytherin table, Crabbe and Goyle following close behind. Soon after the team departed for the pitch. They huddled together as Oliver prepared his pep talk slash threat speech.

“It’s the big day. We all know what we have to do. If we lose this we’re out of the running but if we win we move on to the finals.” Oliver paused to examine them all, “Just do what we’ve practiced. Play like you did yesterday. This is my last year at Hogwarts, and my last chance to get the cup. Let’s go.”

The seven of them lines up on the pitch. Oliver attempted to glare the other captain into submission as they shook hands and the seeker, short and pretty Cho Chang, smiled at him. Harry flushed slightly and wondered if flustering the enemy was some kind of pre match tactic.

The whistle blew and they were off. Harry flew fast and shot ahead of the rest of the players, rising high into the sky as he searched for the snitch. He blocked out Lee Jordan’s Firebolt commentary as a flash of gold caught his eye. He dived towards the Snitch but lost it avoiding a Bludger. When he found it again Cho blocked him, forcing him to swerve to avoid impact. She smiled sweetly at him and Harry urged his broom to go faster and passed by her closer than was necessary, making her flinch.

It continued that way for some time, blocks and swerves. All the while, Gryffindor took a larger lead. Harry caught sight of the Snitch again, far down the pitch, and began to pick up speed. He was over halfway there, barely ahead of Cho when there was a scream.

Three dementors were lurking at the bottom of the pitch. With a movement he had practiced for several hours, Harry extracted his wand from his robes and cast off a patronus. There was no cold sensation at all as something white and large and definitely fully formed galloped down to face the dementors.

Wasting no more time, Harry reached out his hand and grasped for the Snitch. Another second and he felt the fluttering of wings against his hands and he grasped it tightly. A whistle blew and the score was being shouted out. A landslide win.

As Harry landed on the pitch he was swarmed by six figures in red. The three chasers kissed him on the cheek and the twins each had an arm in a death grip as they screamed to the crowd. Oliver shouted, “That’s my boy! We did it! We did it!” Before embracing Harry in a tight hug.

There was a pat on his back, “Good job Harry. You did some really good flying, it was amazing to watch.”

The rest of the team was warily watching Cedric while Oliver full on glared. “Thanks Cedric. I can’t wait to beat you in our match next year.”

He laughed, “Maybe we’ll have to practice together to settle who the better flyer is.” Then Cedric was swallowed by the crowd once more.

“That was a wonderful patronus, Harry. I suppose I’m not surprised by the form it was starting to take too, your father’s son indeed.” Remus was behind him, wearing an old Gryffindor jersey emblazoned with Potter - Chaser.

“A stag? I didn’t even feel the dementors!”

“Ah, well. There weren’t really any dementors. But you did give Mr. Malfoy a scare I’m sure he’ll remember,” Remus pointed over Harry’s shoulder.

Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint were tangled in black robes while a furious McGonagall looked over them. She was shouting out their punishment as Malfoy tried to wiggle out of the robes while they were still stuck over Goyle’s head.

“Oh well, that’s just as good as beating dementors anyways.”

Ron tackled Harry, “Come on mate. There’s a party in the common room. You did brilliant!”

There was indeed a party. It seemed as though they were already celebrating winning the Quidditch Cup with all of the candy and butterbeers the twins were passing around. George whispered to him, “Lupin gave us some tips for getting the butterbeers. He’s great.”

Forcing his way past the swarm of people receiving treats, Harry made his way over to Hermione. She was once again surrounded by books and essays, holding an incredibly thick book and looking more frazzled than ever. It seemed as if she hadn’t left that spot in hours.

“Did you even watch the match?” Harry demanded, upset that she had missed his big win and mostly corporeal patronus.

“Of course I did,” Her voice was high pitched and she didn’t even look at him. “You did very well Harry but I’m really busy and I simply have to read this before Monday.”

“Why don’t you join the party for a little bit? Have you been taking naps at all like I told you to?” Guilt welled up in Harry after noticing just how strained Hermione seemed. Her bushy hair was hastily drawn back into a lopsided ponytail and she was paler than usual.

“I’ve taken one or two. But I really have to finish this book by Monday and I still have over four hundred pages to go and I just don’t know if I can do it!” She sounded hysterical and Harry wondered if she forgot that she could just use the timer turner for that. “Besides, it’s not like Ron wants me there anyways.”

As if fate wanted his best friends to stay apart, Ron chose that moment to comment loudly on Scabbers before glaring at Hermione. She then burst into tears and ran from the room, clutching her book to her chest.

“Could you maybe give her a break? She’s really stressed.”

“No! She hasn’t even apologized. Maybe if she even pretended to care.”

Harry shrunk away, not wanting to have Ron’s anger directed at him. Maybe he should have tried harder but he turned away instead. He tried to step up the stairs to the girl’s dorms to comfort Hermione but the stairs turned into a steep slide underneath him.

Harry fell flat on his back, “Oh, come on!”

He abandoned the party after that, not feeling up to the festivities. The party continued for hours and Harry wished that he hadn’t taken the night off work, if only to have something to do. It was after one in the morning and Harry was preparing to go downstairs and shout at his housemates when he heard McGonagall scolding them. Thankfully, the noise quieted and he drifted off to sleep.

But it was only another couple hours when a scream echoed through the room.

“AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHH! NOOOOOOO!”

Harry sat bolt upright, already grabbing for his wand from his bedside table. He cast a quick lumos and tore open his curtains. There was just a glimpse of a figure outside before the door slammed shut.

“Sirius Black! That was- that was Sirius Black! Standing over my bed, with, with a knife!”

Dean Thomas squinted at him, “Are you sure you weren’t just dreaming.”

“No, look! Look at the curtains!” Indeed, the curtains had been slashed apart.

“I saw the door closing,” Harry piped up.

The other boys’ faces paled. Then they all ran at once to the door, Harry pulled it open and they raced down to the common room. Why, he wasn’t really sure. It wasn’t as if five teenage boys could take out Sirius Black. It was empty, lit only by the dying fire.

“What’s going on?”

“What’s all the noise for?”

“Who screamed?”

Some girls had sleepily come down their stairs, and almost all of the boys had gathered in the common room at that point.

“Are we starting the party again?” A twin asked.

“No! Everybody back upstairs, back to bed!” Percy had stumbled down the stairs, frantically trying to pin his Head Boy badge to his pajamas.

“Perce, Sirius Black! He was in our dorm. Woke me up, he had a knife!”

“Nonsense! Just a nightmare,” Even so, Percy dropped his badge and started to inspect Ron for injuries. Harry saw Hermione start forwards towards them.

“Now just what is going on here? I am glad that we won the match but this is too much! Percy, I didn’t expect this of you!” McGonagall had reappeared in her tartan dressing gown.

Percy dropped his hands from Ron’s shoulders, “No, Professor! I didn’t authorize this, my brother simply had a bad-“

“It wasn’t a dream! Professor, Sirius Black was in our dorm with a knife! He was standing over me!”

McGonagall started in disbelief, “Don’t be ridiculous. How could Sirius Black have gotten through the portrait hole?”

“Really, Professor. I saw someone closing our dorm door behind them.” Harry spoke up.

“Ask Sir Cadogan! Ask him if he saw!” Ron pointed at the back of the portrait.

McGonagall cast one last suspicious look at Ron before exiting the room. Everybody waited as she began to speak. “Sir Cadogan, did you let a man through the portrait hole?”

“Indeed, my lady!”

Everybody froze. “What, but, the password! Why did you let him in!”

“He had it, the whole week’s actually. Read them off this little paper to me.”

McGonagall returned, white and shaking and lips pursed tight. “Who, which absolute fool, wrote down all of the passwords and left them lying around?”

There was silence, broken by the tiniest squeak. The crowd parted as a cowering Neville Longbottom held up a shaking hand.

-

Until dawn, the castle was on complete lockdown. But it was for nothing, Sirius Black had escaped again. Neville had been punished extremely, by both McGonagall and his grandmother’s howler.

Harry ignored Ron retelling the story of his almost murder for the twentieth time, embellishing every detail. Harry just wanted to know why Black had run? Was it because he wouldn’t be able to escape once everyone was awake? Why was he at Ron’s bed anyways? A simple mistake of a man gone mad from twelve years in Azkaban?

A letter dropped in front of him. Ron looked up from his eggs, “What’s that?”

“Hagrid wants to have tea with us.”

“Oh, he probably wants to hear about Black!”

That afternoon Hagrid collected them from the entrance hall. “Hey Hagrid! Did you want to hear about last night?”

“No, no, I already heard abou’ it,” Hagrid led them across the grounds.

“Oh,” Ron seemed disappointed that he couldn’t regal Hagrid with his tale.

Inside Hagrid’s hut Buckbeak was curled up on a quilt, quickly making his way through a plate of ferrets. Also out of place was a large hairy brown suit that was placed next to a horrible tie.

“What’s the suit for?”

“Buckbeak’s case. On Friday him an’ me’ll go down to London. I’ve booked two beds on the Knight Bus...”

Harry wondered how Gwen and Ernie would deal with a hippogriff on the bus. Then a pang of guilt flashed through Harry, he hadn’t helped with the case at all. It seemed that Ron had forgotten as well, based off his face. Hagrid offered them tea and they politely declined some buns.

“Now, there’s somethin’ ter discuss with you two.” Hagrid looked serious, an unsettling look on the normally happy man. “Hermione.”

“What about her?” Ron said, tone turning angry.

“She’s been in a righ’ state. Comin’ down ter visit me a lot this month. She’s been lonely, said you weren’ talkin’ to her. All because her cat-“

“Killed Scabbers!”

“Because her cat acted like a cat,” Hagrid pushed on. “She’s cried a lot, havin’ a rough time. She’s bitten off more’n she can chew what with all her classes. Still helped with Buckbeak’s case though, reckon he’ll stand a chance now.”

“Hagrid, we should’ve helped too, sorry-“

“I’m not blamin’ yeh! I know yeh’ve had a lot ter do, between Quidditch and homework. I’m just disappointed, I thought you’d value yer friend more’n your pet.”

Ron shifted uncomfortably and Harry stared at his teacup.

“She was real upset, y’know, when Black nearly stabbed yeh. She’s tryin’, and you two aren’t talkin’ to her.”

“I’d talk to her if she got rid of that stupid cat!” Ron burst out. “But no, she still sticks up for it! It’s a menace and she lets it go wherever it wants and won’t listen to anything I say!”

“You lost your pet Ron, that doesn’t mean she has to lose hers,” Harry tried to convince Ron.

“People can be stupid abou’ their pets.” Buckbeak squawked as he finished the last ferret.

When the pair returned to the common room, they found everybody crowded around a poster. Ron, the taller of the two, craned his neck. “Hogsmeade next weekend!”

“Let’s go find Hermione and invite her. And apologize.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Just then, a tall stack of books moved from one of the tables near them, revealing Hermione.

“Oh, er, hey Hermione. I just wanted to say that, I, um, I’m sorry. For shouting at you and, uh, being mean to your cat.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, “Oh. Thank you, Ron. And I’m sorry too, for what it’s worth. I should have tried harder to keep Crookshanks out of your dorm.”

“Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with us next weekend? Get away from your books for a bit?” Ron tentatively smiled at her.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

And so the feud ended, mostly resolved, and the three were all friends again. Which was good, because Harry thought he might start getting gray hairs from stress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50000 words written in one month! I’m going to take a couple days off writing and then pick it back up again so I can get through more of the sequel.   
> Man, I actually love Percy Weasley. He’s always concerned about his siblings in the earlier books and it’s great responsible big brother content.  
> Next time: Hogsmeade, bullying, and a discussion of family and discrimination


	17. Bully Disapproves of Bullying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship restored, the trio heads off to Hogsmeade. Of course, Harry’s life is never peaceful and they run into a certain blond git.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every Wednesday/Saturday I’m like ‘Yes!! Chapter day! Post time!’ It is so hard to not just post the rest of the story at once.

The next Saturday the trio departed for Hogsmeade in good spirits. Their friendship had completely healed and the Scabbers incident was mostly forgiven. They wandered about the village, restocking on sweets and enjoying the weather. Finally, they ended up walking to the Shrieking Shack.

Harry froze when he heard the voice of Malfoy drifting from down the road. Ron clenched his fists as Malfoy spoke. “You know, I’m expecting an owl from my father later today. He had to attend that farce of trial, told them all about my injury and how I couldn’t use my arm for a month.”

Malfoy paused to let out a cruel laugh, “Can you even imagine what that oaf Hagrid was like trying to defend that bloody bird? Oh, no, he’s no’ dangerous at all. He’s no harm, really! He ain’t got a cruel bone in his body!” Malfoy had a rather accurate impersonation of Hagrid’s voice which made Harry’s blood boil, that meant he had likely practiced mocking Harry’s friend before.

There was some chuckling from what sounded like Crabbe and Goyle before Malfoy continued. “There’s no reason for the appeal, or even for the trial, really. That animal was already as good as dead as soon as it clawed my arm. Of course my father wouldn’t stand for his son being harmed while being observed by a teacher, if you can call Hagrid that. Oh, look who it is. Potter and his sidekicks.”

Malfoy had come into view and caught sight of them. Hermione out out an arm to stop Ron from lunging forwards and Malfoy kept talking. “I must say, I’m surprised you haven’t gone after Black by now. I would, if it were me. And if I were a stupid Gryffindor I suppose. What, are you just content to let that murderer that’s your godfather walk around?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You must know all about fathers being murderers, isn’t that right Malfoy? Tell me, how is your father? Still mad because he got tricked by a twelve year old?”

“You!” Malfoy snarled, “You child of mud! Son of a magic thief! You know nothing about my father, and at least I have one. Yours went off and got killed, didn’t he? Didn’t even try to fight to stay with his little son?” Malfoy’s pale face had turned red and his face was crumpled in a rare fury.

“You take that back! My dad was an honorable man! He didn’t torture people because of who their parents were!”

“My- My father was not a torturer!” Ron scoffed. “How  dare you! He was under the imperius curse and got relieved of all charges! I’ll make you regret-“

“Wingardium leviosa!” Harry was not foolish enough to cast an offensive spell, no, he was much cleverer than that. He pointed his wand at the sludge in the road and quickly directed it over Malfoy. The spell dropped and so did the mud, all over Malfoy’s custom made silk robes with silver trim.

Malfoy was speechless for a moment and Harry considered it one of the best of his admittedly short life. “I’m going to get you for this! You’ll pay, Potter!”

“Let’s  go !” Hermione tugged Ron and Harry away as Malfoy fumed and tried to clean the muck off his robes. “I can’t believe that you attacked him. I hate him as much as you do but you’ll get in so much trouble!”

“Oh come off it Hermione,” Ron glared back down the path. They stumbled off the path and into the trees. Stopping just a few feet in, the trio hid behind a large tree and waited for Malfoy to pass.

“Did either of you two see where they went? No? Why do I even bother keeping you around if you’re so bloody useless, you don’t even understand half of what I’m saying!” The trio of Slytherins marched past their hiding spot.

They waited until the Slytherins were out of view before emerging from the trees. “Imperiused my arse! Malfoy just paid off the judge according to my dad.”

“What’s the imperius curse?” Harry asked curiously.

“Oh, right, you wouldn’t know about those. It’s one of the three unforgivable curses, casting one of them gets you a lifetime in Azkaban. The imperius is like a super powerful mind control and you can control someone like a puppet. Made it real hard to figure out who was a Death Eater and who was controlled at the end of the war. There’s also the torture curse, the cruciatus, which causes unbearable pain and can make you go insane. And, er, the killing curse. That’s the one that, you know, you rebounded.”

“The one that killed my parents.”

“Well, yeah. It’s supposedly unblockable, but you did it.” There was a bit of the hero worship that hadn’t been seen since the beginning of first year creeping back into Ron’s tone. Harry tried desperately not to be uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Hermione interrupted, “Let’s just go back to the castle now. I’m not really in the mood to do any more walking around.”

Ron dropped the topic, “Yeah, alright. We’ve done pretty much everything already anyways.”

Harry agreed, happy to set block out the method of which his parents had been murdered. “I promised Neville that I’d help him with Lupin’s essay on vampires, so I should probably get back for that.” That same essay had in fact brought up some questions that he needed to ask Morwen, who fit most of the identifying criteria for vampires.

The trio approached the carriages, awkwardly trying to avoid the topics of Malfoy and Buckbeak. As they drew closer Harry saw them again. Every time he took the horseless carriages he caught a glimpse of some kind of horse before they disappeared again and it was creeping him out. He decided he should read up on magical creatures later and promptly ignored the space where horses definitely weren’t.

Of course as soon as the trio arrived back at Hogwarts, the unstable peace shattered. Snape was waiting for them, looking more cross than usual and dressed in regular black robes rather than his usual potion safe type. Harry half expected him to growl with how mad he looked.

“Potter,” Snape spat. “Come with me.”

“What for?” Snape’s glare intensified, “Sir.”

“A matter between you and Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger can go. Follow me.” Snape then turned on his heel and strode away, which left no room for debate.

“Good luck mate, I think he’s going to murder you.” Ron clapped Harry on the back.

“Thanks,” he replied dryly.

“Don’t be rude Harry, and keep your temper!” Then Harry had to scramble to catch up to Snape who had not waited for Harry.

They finally arrived at Snape’s office where the door slammed behind Harry. “So, Potter, you think that bullying is acceptable?”

“No, sir.” Harry wondered where this was going because Snape definitely hadn’t reversed his stance on Malfoy. He had a momentary fantasy of Snape apologizing for being a git before refocusing.

“Then why do you think yourself above that policy? Do you think that being famous or good at Quidditch allows you a free pass to do whatever you want, to harass another student?” Snape was practically snarling as he paced.

Quieter this time, “No, sir, not at all.”  _Snape_ was the bully! The one taunting Harry and sabotaging his work and being unfair to his students. Harry wanted to scream and rage at the man who sat across from him and lectured him about bullying when he regularly bullied school children.

“Then why, pray tell me, have you decided to bully Mr. Malfoy?”

Harry nearly choked trying not to laugh, “Me? Bullying  _ Malfoy _ ?”

“Yes, I was informed by him that you saw fit to insult his father, taunt him, and then cover him in mud. Does that not sound like bullying to you, Mr. Potter? Oh, how like your father you are.” Snape’s black eyes glinted in the dim light.

“It wasn’t like that! And don’t talk about my father!”

Snape sounded almost delighted as he chided, “Ah, shouting at a teacher? I’m afraid I’ll have to take five points from Gryffindor for that. Alright Potter, turn out your pockets. Let’s see what kind of banned objects from Zonko’s you’ve tried to sneak in.”

Harry glared viciously as he pulled out a bag of Honeyduke’s sweets, his wand, a book on Ancient Runes he had gotten from the bookshop, and oh, no. The blank Marauder’s Map that he had forgotten to take out of his pockets that morning.

Snape’s eyes caught on it immediately, flashing with some kind of faint recognition. He snatched it up, “And what is this?”

Harry tried to keep it together, “It’s a piece of parchment, sir.”

“Just a bit of parchment, is it? Why don’t I just burn it then?” Snape taunted, holding the map by a candle.

“No!” Harry burst out.

“No? Why ever not? It’s just a bit of parchment after all.” Snape wasn’t even hiding his grin at that point.

“Er, it is. But that’s, that’s, destruction of student property!” Harry finally came up with. He tried to remember what Sophia had told him about lying before Stan had smacked her arm and lectured her about corrupting children. “You’re not allowed to do that, sir.”

“Oh, aren’t I? Let’s see what this really is.” Snape then cast a blur of spells over the map, none revealing anything except some rude messages. Harry would have sighed in relief if it wouldn’t have given him away.

Snape actually snarled at the paper before throwing floo powder into his fireplace and shouting for Remus. To his credit, Remus actually showed up right away without even looking too disturbed. “Severus. What has you calling for me? Ah, Mr. Potter, have you just returned from Hogsmeade? I do hope you finished that essay for me.”

“Of course Professor Lupin. I was going to help Neville with his but S- Professor Snape wanted a word with me.” Harry really hoped that Remus would help him get out of whatever punishment Snape meant to give him as well as take the map to safety.

“Potter has been bullying his classmate, Mr. Malfoy. You’d know all about bullying, wouldn’t you Lupin?”

Remus seemed unperturbed, “I do. Now, I’ve also had two students come to me about threats and insults that Mr. Malfoy has given to Mr. Potter. So perhaps not all is as it seems.”

Snape’s eye twitched. “When I asked Potter to turn out his pockets so I could confiscate any illegal joke products, I found this.” He brandished the blank Marauder’s Map. Remus carefully did not react. “Any idea what this is, as our resident  _ dark art specialist _ ?”

It had been a while since Harry had wanted to deck Snape in the face this much. But he had clearly said that as a dig at Remus’s status as a werewolf and Harry would definitely not stand for that. “Specialist because he’s the Defense professor, of course. Certainly not anything else that if revealed would threaten Professor Lupin’s job and future income. Right, Professor Snape?” Perhaps that was why the Sorting Hat had been so adamant on Slytherin. While he hated most of the slimy buggers, their house did value some important skills that Harry possessed. Such as a subtle jab, when properly threatened.

“Of course, Potter. I wonder, did you complete that essay I assigned for you several months ago?”

“No, seeing as it went against our lesson plan and was so incredibly biased. Prejudice is such an awful thing. Don’t you agree?” Harry carefully let his eyes flicker to Snape’s always covered arm. He had rifled through old newspapers from the war that had been carefully preserved in the library, hoping to find articles on his parents. He had been very surprised indeed to find out that his potions professor carried the mark of skull and snake on his arm.

Snape paled slightly before abandoning the conversation and facing aremos once more. Harry gave himself a mental pat on the back for managing to outwit Snape, even if it was emotionally draining. “So, Lupin. Is it dangerous? Anything hidden?”

“No, no, not at all. It appears to be a simple joke product that insults whomever attempts to hold it, most likely a Zonko’s product but certainly not a banned one or anything of dark magic.” Remus was clutching the map, looking a little sad as new messages scrawled across the parchment. “Now, about the supposed bullying. It seems as though words were traded on both sides and neither are without blame. Instead of punishment, I’d like to take each boy aside and talk to them separately. Any protests, Severus?”

Snape looked as though he absolutely had protests but Remus quickly tugged Harry towards the fireplace. “We’ll be going now.”

Then they vanished into the flames and reappeared in Remus’s office. Remus set down the map on his desk and dropped into his chair. Harry took a seat and glanced at the messages on the paper.

_Mr. Moony would like to state that he is glad the map has reentered a Marauder’s possession and is exceptionally pleased at his current occupation._

_Mr. Padfoot would also like to state his compliments on your job and is flabbergasted that you didn’t cuss out the old slimeball._

_Mr. Prongs presents his compliments to the Professor Lupin and despairs that he did not curse Snivellous._

_Mr. Wormtail agrees with the delight of the previous three and asks if he has finally settled down with a girl._

Based off of Remus’s pained expression, this was the first time he had triggered the defense mechanism of slight insults and comments towards the holder. “How does the message know this new information without being told?”

“A clever bit of spellwork I did at James’s behest. It captures keywords from what is spoken while it is held. It works better when being held by a Marauder as our magic is so ingrained in it. It is not truly a response, simply a small part of our personalities combined with some magic that creates insults or questions. Now, let’s talk about your fight with Mr. Malfoy.”

“You were serious about that?” Harry exclaimed. He and simply thought that was a play to get him away from Snape.

“Well you did get into a bit of a fight. Ron and Hermione came to me right away and informed me that Mr. Malfoy had been insulting Hagrid before switching to you. Hermione also saw fit to mention that you shared a few quips of your own and dumped mud on him for using a slur. While I’m glad that you stood up against prejudice, that may have not been the best course of action.”

Harry averted his eyes, “Malfoy deserved it. He insulted my dad.”

“After you did the same, I hear. Harry I’m not blaming you, but you must admit that you and Mr. Malfoy have something of an ongoing grudge where you are both to blame. I am not excusing his actions in the slightest, he has done far more dire things than you, but you are not wholly innocent.” Remus slid freshly made cup of tea across the desk.

Harry murmured, “He called me a son of mud and a magic thief. Said my dad didn’t even try to fight to come back to me.”

Remus inhaled sharply. “Ah. Well. I will most certainly be having a talk with Mr. Malfoy sometime this week about slurs. Those are particularly nasty ones that I haven’t heard in quite some time. As far as your father, there is nothing in this world that could have made him stop fighting for you. He loved you with every part of his being.”

And then Harry couldn’t help himself anymore, “Why did Sirius Black betray my parents?”

Remus looked properly shocked. “I know that he’s my godfather and I know that he was my parents’ Secret Keeper but nobody has ever mentioned  _why_. Why did he do it? He was disowned and a proud Gryffindor and friends with a werewolf and a blood traitor, so why? Why did he lead Voldemort straight to my parents?”

“How do you know that he’s your godfather, that he was the Secret Keeper?” Remus was frowning. “And I don’t know why he did it, he never showed any signs. I suspected towards the end, there was a traitor in our ranks and he had connections to the dark side through his family and he had been disappearing to search for his brother. But I don’t know for certain why. Now, how did you know?”

“Bathilda Bagshot told me about my godfather this summer. And some of the professors and Minister Fudge were talking in the Three Broomsticks. They should learn to be quiet if they don’t want everyone to hear what they’re saying.” The bitter feeling is back, a burning resentment that another adult didn’t tell him things that he should have known.

“Oh, well, that’s certainly not how I would have had you find out.”

“And how would you! Were you ever going to tell me, or were you just going to let me think of Sirius as a defector and dark wizard? Traitor or not, he’s still my godfather. Still family,” He whispered the last part. “I hate him, yes, and I don’t want a relationship with him. But he’s my only magical relative left and I want to know how he could betray his one year old godson and best friends to Voldemort.”

“I am so sorry, Harry, that I have failed you so much,” Tears were starting to drip down Remus’s face. “I wanted to wait to reveal your relationship with Sirius until after he was recaptured. I will admit that I was a bit worried that you would try to hunt him down yourself.”

Harry interrupted, “Please, I’m not that stupid!”

“Of course not, but grief makes men rash. I am also sorry that I was not part of your life before becoming your professor. Nobody in the entirety of the Wizarding World knew your location after the fall of Voldemort. I knew that Dumbledore had hidden you somewhere but wasn’t quite sure where. I suspected Lily’s sister but there seem to be incredibly powerful wards around their house, wherever it may be. I asked Dumbledore and he refused to tell me even when I insisted that Lily and James would have wanted your care to fall to one of their friends, not Petunia. It was only a week from then that the newest law against werewolves was passed.”

Remus took a deep sip from his cup. “There are many laws against werewolves, though it is no longer legal to hunt them for sport. Apparently another one had been in the making for several months in response to Fenrir Greyback’s repeated attacks on children. About twelve years ago it became illegal for werewolves to have full or even majority custody of a child and not at all legal to adopt. Known werewolves were monitored and kept away from any gathering of children. Werewolves were also banned from having children as the Ministry did not want my disease to spread, now it is legal for me to have children with a woman who is not a werewolf. Sadly female werewolves are still off limits for children as it is almost certain that the curse would be passed on. And that is something that I wish to avoid with my entire being, cursing another young soul to a life of suffering. So, I could not take care of you even if I had managed to find you. For that, I am sorry.”

Harry was stunned. He had known, somewhat distantly, that werewolves were oppressed by regular witches and wizards but this was a whole new level. “Why- How is that even legal? Don’t you have human rights?”

“Alas, Harry,” Remus smiled as if sharing a particularly funny joke, “I am not considered human. No, don’t try to justify it in your head or get mad at the Ministry. Werewolves have a very bad reputation and nothing will change that within the century short of a miracle.”

Privately, Harry was already thinking if he could be a miracle. “I can’t blame you for not taking care of me then. Not if you tried and were legally unable to.”

“Thank you Harry, though I fear it shall continue to weigh heavy on my conscious, leaving James and Lily’s son, any child really, alone in a world not meant for them. Now it has been quite a long talk, and I am sure that Mr. Longbottom will be eager to receive your help.”

“I’m sure he will. Now, can I have this back, or?” Harry gestured towards the blank Marauder’s Map that had wiped itself of comments.

Remus laughed, “Ah, yes, you may take it back. I should think it prefers being used by you compared to sitting in my office. Have a good rest of your day Harry, and do take care.”

Harry repeated the sentiment and retreated from the office. He studied the map and was surprised to see two dots hurtling towards him. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger approached, and looking up as he quickly wiped the map, there they were.

He was ready to grin and greet his friends when he saw their faces. Ron looked unusually grim as he approached while at his side Hermione was crying. They finally reached Harry and before he could ask, Hermione held out a tear stained letter.

Hagrid had lost the trial. Buckbeak was to be executed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would anybody actually be interested in all of my headcanons and notes on this au? A sample! Many vampires used to be considered knowledge keepers and they run the largest wizarding library. Also, many have cat companions because of the nine lives lore, which they believe to mean cats are reincarnated and will stay close to their owner’s family which is great for an immortal.
> 
> I’m rereading some parts of GoF to refresh my memory of the plot and man I hate Snape. He’s a bastard in book four, he tells Hermione who got cursed with rapid growing teeth that he couldn’t see a difference and gave Neville a detention where he had to dissect toads when he knows that he had a pet toad.


	18. Quitting Crystal Balls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is stressed and gets some comfort from her best friends.

Hagrid had returned to Hogwarts in despair and was inconsolable. Buckbeak was going to be executed unless Hagrid somehow managed to win the appeal. Hermione had continued her reading on hippogriffs as well as all of her other readings for all of her classes. Harry often found her still in the common room at one in the morning when he returned from work. Harry himself had also joined in to learn about the Department of Regulation and Control or Magical Creatures, the lengthiest title he had ever heard besides Dumbledore’s various achievements. Surprisingly, Ron had thrown himself into helping with a vigor, looking up old court cases and reading about creature trials.

When asked about why he was so invested he had responded that his second oldest brother, Charlie, worked with dangerous creatures, dragons, and had taught Ron that the lives of creature were valuable. Ron had blushed after revealing this as if embarrassed but Hermione and Harry had found it honorable.

Draco on the other hand, was delighted to hear about the imminent execution. It seemed Remus truly had taken him aside for some tea and heavy conversation because for a few days he had been quiet and reserved. But then he came back full swagger and ready to mock anything and everything.

“I must say, it’s relieving to know that that awful creature will be dead soon. To think that it’s gotten away with attacking me for so long.”

“Shut up Malfoy! Buckbeak is innocent and he’s going to win the appeal!” Ron shouted at Malfoy one fateful morning.

Malfoy actually seemed shocked speechless for a second, “Are you serious Weasley? Innocent? The stupid bird actually attacked me under your oaf of a professors watch. Mauled my arm and it couldn’t be healed fully for months because of a little comment. I wonder how hard he’ll cry when his precious hippogriff is dead. Do you think he’ll quit being a professor out of sadness? It would do us all a favor you know, maybe we could get an actual professor.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak before a Malfoy cut her off, “Don’t bother Granger, you know it’s true. He’s pathetic.” Noticeably, Malfoy hadn’t used a single slur that entire week. Still, the bags under Hermione’s eyes were dark and her brow was creased.

Hermione opened her mouth once more but quickly shut it. Instead, she stalked forwards towards Malfoy. “Oh, gonna shout at me Granger?” He taunted, though his eyes visibly flicked toward the wand in her robes and there was a faint shadow of fear.

Then, gloriously, wonderfully, Hermione curled her hand into a fist and socked Malfoy right in the nose. Hard. Harry wondered where Hermione had learned to throw a punch, he recognized it as a good one after being a punching bag for Dudley for so long.

Malfoy sputtered in disbelief and pain before Hermione spoke. “I don’t even need to use my magic to take you down, Malfoy, so watch your mouth. So if my dirty blood is so much more powerful than yours with just a punch, you better hope that you don’t find out what I can do with magic.”

Malfoy gaped. Hermione turned on her heel and practically ran away, Harry and Ron speeding after with shocked expressions. “You,” Ron couldn’t believe it. His voice then turned gleeful, “You punched Malfoy. And threatened him. Holy shit Hermione, what has gotten into you? It was brilliant by the way, a real solid punch to his nose. I hope it’s crooked now, did you see his face?”

“Oh my,” Hermione whispered, face blank with shock. “Oh god. Did I really just punch Malfoy? Threaten him? I am going to get in so much trouble!”

Ignoring Hermione’s distressed wail, Harry laughed. “Yes, you did just punch Malfoy. And it was great! Nicely done Hermione, he deserved it.”

“Do you think maybe he’ll leave us and Hagrid alone for a bit? That would be a nice change.”

The bell tolled, indicating that classes were starting. “Oh, we’re going to be late to Charms now. Hurry up! We’re doing cheering charms and I’m certain that they’ll be on the exam.”

Hermione charged down the hall to the Charms classroom, the two boys jogging to catch up. She pushed open the door and stumbled inside. “I am sorry for our lateness Professor Flitwick. I take full responsibility!”

Flitwick turned towards to her, surprise showing on his face. “You aren’t too late, just try not to make a habit of it or else I’ll have to hand out detentions. Come now, sit down. Today we will be learning cheering charms!”

Professor Flitwick demonstrated the cheering charm and gave a short recap on the theory that they had done the reading on the previous class. Throughout it all, Hermione’s eyes began blinking for longer and longer until her head nearly feel forwards.

“Blimey Hermione, what’s gotten into you today?” Ron gave her a concerned look as he caught her hand right before it was about to smack into an inkwell. “Normally you’re wide awake and ready to take notes and ask questions in class. Are you alright?”

“Of course Ronald,” She said distractedly, in the midst of misspelling observe as ‘osberve’ in her sparse notes.

“Hermione, have you gotten any sleep at all? Or taken any  _ naps _ ?” Harry had thought he had finally gotten through to Hermione that using time magic to sleep was perfectly acceptable when she had a double workload.

“Mhm, I just needed to look up something else for Hagrid and then I remembered something else I needed to add to my Muggle Studies essay and then-“

“Hermione, please, get some sleep. If not for your health then for your ability to stay awake and functional during classes.”

“Fine. Gaudiunt.” Hermione swished her wand in a precise way that perfectly mirrored the textbook and a smile split Ron’s face.

“Wow, amazing. I feel great! Everything is great! My turn now, gaudiunt!” Ron’s movement was less precise, a relaxed grip and motion from years of watching wand waving.

Harry felt as though he had just casted a patronus. Thing were good. Then it felt as though his brain was being dipped into a jar of honey and his thoughts became sluggish. Slugs. Ron had tried to make Malfoy throw up slugs in second year. Hilarious! A giggle made its way past his lips, then a laugh, and then full on hysterical laughter.

“Oh dear, I think you overdid it Ron,” Hermione gave Harry a worried look.

Ron shrugged, “Damn. I guess I wasn’t focused enough. Sorry mate, it should wear off soon.”

Harry laughed again. Ron wasn’t focused! Wasn’t focused because he was thinking about Hermione who was thinking about Malfoy! Malfoy being punched in his stupid aristocratic nose!

He spent the rest of Charms locked in the back room with the others who had the charm overdone on them. One person would burst into laughter and then the rest would follow, falling over themselves in amusement at nothing in particular. Once it wore off it was slightly nightmarish.

“Sorry again, Harry, I didn’t think I had out that much power into it.”

Harry sighed, “It’s okay Ron. Especially because now, I get to do this! Gaudiunt!”

The spell, only slightly overpowered, hit Ron in the chest. Ron promptly chuckled, “Harry. No fair!”

The trio made their way up to Divination, conversation occasionally interrupted by a short burst of random laughter. As they clambered up the silver ladder to Trelawney’s classroom Ron let out a laugh as his eyes landed on the crystal balls. “Hahaha! Crystal balls today? Haha! How many of us- Hahahaha! Will die today?”

“I reckon just me for maximum dramatic effect. The rest of the deaths will be predicted tomorrow.” Harry dryly stated. Every time they learned a new type of divination Trelawney tended to predict around three deaths. Harry was always one of them, and usually the most dramatic one.

Hermione huffed, “How can you joke about that? Yes she’s a fraud but you shouldn’t make light of people telling you that you will die.”

“Hermione, it will take a lot more than some flimsy cards or wet leaves to kill me. Besides, if I joke about it then it’s not a serious threat, right?”

“Fine. Can we please sit on the edges away from her stupid incense. I don’t care if it enhances our fake third eyes, it just gives me a headache.” Hermione rubbed her brow to demonstrate her perpetual headache that was only strengthened by nutty seers.

“That’s the third eye opening Hermione!” Ron laughed loudly.

The three of them crowded around a tiny table. Each of them sat on squat pouffes that were a red fabric that was probably meant to be soft but instead was just irritating. There was a fancy dark blue tablecloth embroidered with gold patterns and the occasional rune that were clearly just for aesthetic purposes. A singular crystal ball sat in the center of the table, silver and misty.

Ron leaned in closer, “Looks like glass filled with smoke. Very impressive. Oh wait, Harry, I think I see you with a crazy axe murderer behind you. Oh dear, you’re dead for the fifth time this year. How horrible.”

Harry laughed at his best friend’s antics but quieted himself as Trelawney approached. The scent of entirely too strong perfume overwhelmed their table and Hermione rubbed her brow, shadows under her eyes more pronounced as she glared at a snagged thread on the tablecloth.

“Let me help you dear children. The crystal ball can be quite tricky for beginners. Ah, a shape is forming.” Trelawney gazed into the crystal ball which showed no signs of changing. Ron held up five finger behind her back and slowly counted down. Right on cue Trelawney gasped. “I see, the black church dog, the Gri-“

“Oh please, stop it with the Grim already!” Hermione snapped. Harry stared in shock. Ron let out a burst of nervous laughter in the following silence.

“I’m sorry, my dear? Is something wrong? It is perfectly understandable to be upset at your friend’s oncoming demise.” Trelawney looked a bit like a dragonfly, eyes wide in misunderstanding and magnified by her glasses with her arms robes in a glimmering green and blue while outstretched to pronounce Harry’s doom.

“I am, I am done! Done with these stupid predictions! All you do is predict Harry’s death because of vague shapes of dogs! Divination is unreliable at best and I only took it to have a full twelve OWLS but it seems I have wasted my time!” The words poured out of Hermione in a rush, angry and bitter and based off of a stress that had been building for months.

Harry hissed to her, “Hermione, are you sure that you want to do this?”

“Yes, Harry. You said I needed to lighten my workload, right? Well, I’m lightening it. While a few sections of divination have proven to have some truth to them when combined with arithmancy or runes, things like crystal balls certainly haven’t.” She spat crystal balls like a curse.

“My dear girl, why don’t you sit down. I see something forming in the ball for you. It isn’t pleasant b-“

Hermione’s eyes were wild and she was clearly too sleep deprived to be thinking straight, “No! Stop with that wishy washy nonsense! I am leaving now!”

She stuffed her divination book into her overflowing bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m done!” She continued, breathless and starting to sound anxious. Spinning around, she stormed away from a stunned Trelawney and climbed part way down the ladder. “If any of you have any sense, you’ll leave too!” And then she was gone.

The class was completely silent. The trapdoor had slammed shut after Hermione with a deafening bang. She really wasn’t coming back. The silence was broken by a hysterical laughter as Ron tried to cover his mouth. As if a dam had been broken, everyone began chattering. Harry ignored Trelawney and the people talking about Hermione as he faced Ron.

“I am really worried about her now, that wasn’t like Hermione at all.”

“No kidding, punching Malfoy and disrespecting a teacher before quitting a class? She’s obviously cracked under the pressure. Next she’ll be hugging Snape and forgetting homework.”

“Ugh. Gross. Really though, I think we should try to help her ease off the work a bit. Stop her from writing double what the paper requires, you know?” Harry bit his lip and stared at the stupid crystal ball.

“Yeah, we can try and stop her from running herself into the ground. Scratch that, she already runs herself into the ground. Now we just need to stop making her dig a hole that she can sprint further down into.” Ron shut his divination textbook and put it away as Trelawney clearly wasn’t returning to their table or even looking in their direction. The pair spent the rest of class in a worried silence as the third seat stayed empty.

A soon as the hour was up Ron and Harry raced out of the divination classroom and ran all the way to Gryffindor tower. Avoiding the security trolls that guarded the Fat Lady, they entered. Hermione was sitting at her usual table, she had a book open in front of her but she was simply staring at the pages, not reading.

Ron gave Harry a worried look and they approached cautiously. “Hey Hermione. Are you okay after, you know, leaving?”

Hermione raised her head and it was evident that she had been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks were shining. “I can’t believe that I did that.” She sobbed, “Oh my god. I can’t believe that I did that.”

“Hey now, it’s alright. We all know Trelawney’s class is bullshit anyways. It was pretty Gryffindor of you to walk out though.” Harry patted her shoulder awkwardly, hoping that he wasn’t wasn’t it worse.

Rubbing furiously at her eyes, Hermione choked out, “I’m just so stressed!”

“We know Hermione, I’m getting flashbacks to Percy coming home for Christmas and having breakdowns over homework. I’ve been telling you you’re insane for taking all of those classes. Which, now that I think about it, I still don’t know how you’re attending all of them.” At Hermione’s distressed look Ron quickly added, “But that doesn’t matter right now. We’ve just, well, we’ve both been really worried about you. You just do so much, all the time, nonstop.”

Hermione gave Ron a watery smile and thanked him. “I still don’t want to go into my dorm though. Lavender and Parvati think Trelawney is the greatest thing since self stirring cauldrons and they actually believe everything she says. I really don’t want to hear them complain about people who just don’t respect her genius.”

Harry floundered for a moment, trying to think of a way to cheer her up. “Well, why don’t we go explore for a bit. We haven’t taken the cloak out in a while and I’m pretty sure I know where the kitchens are.”

“Really? I guess I never thought of Hogwarts having kitchens, even if someone has to prepare all that food. Yeah, let’s go out.”

Ron was open mouthed, “Kitchens? That must be how Fred and George always get food for the parties!”

“I’ll go grab the cloak now,” Harry bounded up the stairs and pulled the carefully folded cloak out of his trunk. He also took out the map and unlocked it, stealing a quick glance at the large room labeled kitchen. He then wiped it and stored it away again before returning to his friends

“Ready to go? I heard that the kitchen is in the basement but I’m not really sure how to get there.”

“I mean, it’s probably under the Great Hall somewhere. Can we use the cloak to avoid all the people coming to the tower?” Hermione requested, quiet but starting to look less sad.

Harry smiled at her, “Sure. Whatever you want.”

Ron clapped her on the back, “Anything. Let’s get going, I’ve missed exploring the halls.”

They opened the portrait and as soon as they rounded the corner they disappeared under the invisibility cloak. They stumbled and stepped on each other’s heels and nearly died on the stairs, muffling their laughter the entire way, just teenagers enjoying wandering around the school for a few minutes. Eventually the trio reached the Entrance Hall.

They paused and finally Ron asked, “Where to from here?”

“Well, if it really if under the Great Hall it should be one of these doors. That’s the Great Hall itself, that’s a classroom corridor, and that goes to the dungeons.” Hermione pointed to each of the doors, skipping over only two.

Ron pointed at one of them which was flanked by two stone gargoyles, “That leads to the staff room. I remember from the end of last year.”

“I think I’ve seen some Hufflepuffs go there after meals. We could check it out. It might be fun even if it ends up not being the kitchens.” Harry was honestly not sure where the kitchen was positioned or if it was near the Hufflepuff common room.

Unseen by any passers by, they snuck over to the door and pulled it open just wide enough to peek through. Seeing that it was all clear the three squeezed through the door. It was a short hallway, well lit by torches with just two suits of armor on either side of the hall. There was a small nook almost completely filled with barrels and one very large barrel behind them. Further down the hall was a massive still life painting of a silver bowl filled with fruit.

“Do you think it’s like the Fat Lady and it needs a password? Because that’s definitely the kitchens, right?” Hermione pulled off the invisibility cloak and walked up to the painting.

Ron followed. “Does this thing even move?” He reached up a hand and touched the painting. Nothing happened. “Weird.”

Then his hand slid to the side, slightly over the pear. A high pitched giggle pierced the air. The trio wheeled around to see who had laughed but the hall was empty. Harry slowly started, “Do you think, that maybe, the painting laughed?”

Ron shrugged and put his hand back on the painting. Nothing happened. “Maybe I need to move my hand around.” Ron drew his fingers gently across the canvas and once again when they reached the pair there was a laugh.

“Keep going Ron, I think the pear is laughing!” Harry watched in amusement as rubbed his hand back and forth on the painted pear, laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

The pear shrieked in laughter and then the painting swung open. “Wow,” Hermione finally said. “The kitchen was hidden by a pear that needs to be tickled.”

They stepped forwards into what was hopefully the kitchen and their jaws dropped. The kitchen was huge, at least as large as the Great Hall above them with four long tables that mirrored the house tables as well as a fifth, shorter one that was meant to be the staff table. A large fire was at the far end of the room and there were several more on either side. Hundreds of pots and pans hung along the walls, glittering in the warm light. Dinner was clearly being prepared as various foods were being placed along the tables and the smells of food cooking permeated the air.

Most amazing of all, was the house elves. There were over a hundred of the little creatures, all running in different directions and each clothed in a different colored makeshift robe or smock. Apparently they had been noticed because two house elves wearing checkered clothes that seemed to be made of tablecloths hurried over.

“How can we be helpings you Misters and Miss?” The first one squeaked.

“Oh, um, we just wanted to find the kitchens.” The elves seemed to droop so Harry quickly added, “But we wouldn’t mind some hot chocolate.”

The second one beamed up at them, “Of course Mister! We will be bringings it right over. Do you be wanting marshmallows?”

“Er, yes, please. And, what are your names?”

The second one scurried away as the first answered, “I is Tobin and that was Dorid. We are so pleased you visited! What are your names?”

“It’s nice to meet you. My name is Harry and these are my friends Ron and Hermione.”

Ron was staring curiously at Tobin. “I’ve never met a house elf before.”

Hermione looked less certain, “Are you, are you happy to be working? How much do you get paid?”

Tobin laughed, “Oh Miss Hermione! We be loving our work, it is life for us house elves! We do not be wanting paying, just good conditions.”

“Really?” Hermione was looking truly concerned now, “You don’t get vacations or anything? That’s slave labor!”

“No, no Miss Hermione! Being away from work is being bad for us. We seek out work if we are forced away or,” She shuddered then, “Freed. Being freed is the worst punishment for us.”

“You don’t want to be freed? That’s weird, I thought all elves didn’t like working because Dobby hated his old masters.” Perhaps Dobby was just weird. He didn’t seem very bright, with his methods of keeping Harry safe and away from Hogwarts just getting more violent and life threatening.

Tobin perked up, “You is knowing Dobby? He works here now! His old masters were bad to him, but he is liking here much better. He is getting pay... but he just uses it to get clothes. It is odd but he likes it and likes that we don’t be needing to care about clothes because we like our work.”

Dorid then returned with a tray of three hot chocolates piled high with marshmallows. “For you Mister Harry!”

“Thank you Dorid, this is delicious. So Dobby works here now?” Harry took a sip of the hit chocolate, it was perfectly rich.

“Thank you Mister Harry! Yes! Dobby be working on preparing dinner. Do you be wanting to see him?”

Harry looked over at his friends, who were clearly enjoying the hot chocolate. Ron shrugged, “Sure Harry, as long as he doesn’t try to kill you again.”

“I’d like to meet Dobby. I wonder why he’s so different.”

“Dobby!” Dorid shouted across the hall with impressive loudness for something do small.

“Coming Dorid!” An elf broke way from the tables and as it scurried into view Harry recognized Dobby.

“Harry Potter!” Dobby’s eyes widened, “Harry Potter has come to visit Dobby. You is such a good wizard.”

“Hello Dobby, I was wondering where you went after you were freed. I’m glad you found work here.”

“Oh yes, Hogwarts is very nice. Dobby was unemployed for months, nobody wants to be having an elf that has clothes. But I did not be wanting a new master. So I be coming here and Dumbledore be saying I can be paid and keep my clothes. I can be having things all to myself here. Now I work here and I be adding to my collection!” Indeed, Dobby was wearing three pairs of socks over each other, a child sized button down, a polka dotted bow tie, and various belts wrapped twice around his small body.

“You look quite nice Dobby,” Hermione complimented, eyeing the mismatched clothes. “So you wanted to leave your old masters, are there lots of elves like that?”

“There are some, but all the elves here are happy. Some families think they are better than elves so they hurt them, but most is just being happy to serve good families. We be liking work, and an elf that doesn’t work gets sick. It is very sad.” Dobby’s ears drooped.

Hermione’s face had long since been wiped clean of tears and now she simply looked intrigued. It certainly promised more trips to the library to research house elves. “I suppose I understand then, working is part of how you live. It’s like witches and wizards needing to do magic.”

“Yes Miss Hermione, very much like that,” Tobin agreed.

Dorid timidly looked up at them, “Now we is terribly sorry to ask, but do you be needing anything else? We need to get back to preparing dinner.”

“Oh we’ll leave you alone then. Thank you for all of your hard work.” Hermione smiled at the small group of house elves and set down her empty mug. “Shall we go then?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. I’m guessing you feel better then?”

“Loads. Thank you for cheering me up Harry, Ron.”

“Well we couldn’t let you be sad after you decked Malfoy and shouted at Trelawney,” Ron slung his arm around Hermione’s shoulder. “Now let’s get back in time for dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random world building: Part of the reason blood magic is mostly taboo and forbidden in all but law is cultist type wizards. A couple hundred years ago there were several groups trying to rise to power to rival Merlin. Their methods were human and animal sacrifice and blood offerings and mixing blood with more powerful wizards. This caused a lot of fear about any kind of blood magic which has lasted to current day.
> 
> I’ve been trying to get back into daily writing but I just, don’t want to? No worries though, I’ll get back into my rhythm.  
> Edit: I accidentally had the chapter doubled in here so sorry if you read it before I fixed it


	19. Devil, Dog, Destroyer of Rats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sees an unsettling trio, wins the Quidditch cup, and finally gets break down about his life before eleven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quidditch is pretty much the most boring thing to write ever. I can’t come up with new stuff to say so it ends up just being almost quoted from the book. So I skipped it! Yay! It happened exactly like canon.  
> Content warning for the second half of the chapter: Discussion of child abuse and child neglect. I hope that I handled this sensitive subject well for someone who has never experienced it.

It was the night before the Gryffindor vs Slytherin Quidditch final and Harry was not asleep as Oliver wished. Instead, he was sitting on the Knight Bus enjoying the company of the midnight regulars as well as Ernie, Stan, and even Gwen.

“I’ll take a night of a little less sleep if it means I can see you before your match,” She explained when he asked.

Stan twisted his hat slightly so it was jauntily off center, “I would watch it but it’s family or friends accompanying family only. Do you think I could pass off as a quidditch recruiter? Probably not since I don’t know what the ‘ell is goin’ on ‘alf the time.”

Ernie was half way twisted around to look at Harry and nearly hit a building. “You’ll do great, though it pains me to cheer for Gryffindor.”

“What house were you in?” Harry realized he had never actually asked any of their houses.

“Slytherin and proud.” Ernie sent Harry a half smile and he wrinkled his nose at the older man. It made sense that not every Slytherin was like Malfoy he supposed. Some of the girls were alright.

Stan tapped one of the many pins on his work uniform that was a bright yellow with black geometric designs. “Badger pride, ‘Ufflepuffs unite.”

Harry turned to Gwen, “Ravenclaw. Looks like we’ve got the whole of Hogwarts here.”

“So,” Harry asked slyly, “Where are the rest of the common rooms?”

They all laughed. “No way are we giving up our secrets kid!”

“Aw, come on. I already know where the Slytherin one is, I went inside last year. I know Ravenclaw has their own tower and Hufflepuffs are somewhere in the basement.”

Sophia looked impressed as she spoke up, “How did you manage to get into the Slytherin common room? No outsider has been inside in seven centuries and it’s hidden by a bare stretch of wall!”

Harry was pleased that he had managed to surprise the usually unshakable witch. “My friend Hermione brewed Polyjuice potion and Ron and I snuck in as two Slytherin students with their other friend who had the password.”

“Wow,” Ernie said as he took a sharp turn. “You brewed Polyjuice potion as twelve year olds? That’s very illegal and I’m kind of proud.”

“Well, technically just Hermione who was thirteen. She brewed it in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom after getting a book on it from the Restricted Section which she accessed by manipulating our professor.” It was rather illegal. But Harry was perfectly fine boasting about his friend, in his opinion neither of them got enough credit.

Everybody on the bus was impressed. Stan finally called out, “Leaky Cauldron! Sophia? Are you ready, fair lady?”

Stan winked at the young woman and pressed a light kiss to her hand. She rolled her eyes but had a fond smile as she exited the bus. “Good luck David. Remember, the easiest place to shove someone off a broom is by targeting one foot and then throwing off their center of gravity.”

Then she was gone. Stan gazed happily after her, “Now that’s a perfect woman. Ruthless, beautiful, intelligent, and could kill me in a ‘eartbeat.”

Gwen patted Stan on the shoulder, “Yes Stan, we all know about your interest in women that are way out of your league.”

“Oh shove off! I’ll have you know that plenty of girls like me.”

Gwen and Stan continued to bicker. Gary whispered to Harry, “They fight like siblings. It reminds me of what my kids were like.”

“David,” Morwen nudged Harry. Tonight her braids had small white flowers tucked in to them and she was holding a folded piece of fabric. “I painted you a banner for your game.”

She presented Harry with the banner and he spread it out. It was a light gray with a golden stylized lion. The lion had been made with magical paint as it flashed it’s claws and let out a silent roar. There were also two Bludgers, a Quaffel, and a Snitch that flew around the edge. ‘Go Gryffindor!’ was written in fancy calligraphy to the right of the lion.

“Thank you so much, this is amazing!”

Morwen smiled, and yes those were definitely fangs but he still had yet to ask if she was a vampire, “It was my pleasure. After all, you have given me much inspiration over the months so I simply repaid with some of my talents.”

“I love it, I’m sure everybody else will too. Actually, Dean is probably going to bother me for weeks about knowing an artist.”

“Dean, that is the one who likes to draw? Tell him to send me a letter, I run apprenticeship programs during the summer. Now, I should be getting back soon. Ernie, if you will?” Ernie nodded and pulled the lever and suddenly the bus was trundling through the country side. It stopped in front of a peaceful looking cottage with an expansive garden that included a bookshelf full of books that were imperviused against the weather. Morwen’s home was cozy looking, despite the fact that there was a group of bats that roosted in the trees behind the cottage.

“Have a good match, I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Morwen nodded to Harry before stepping off the bus. As soon as she was onto the grass the bus shot off again at top speed.

“Where to next David?”

He turned around to look at the map behind him. Swiping off the Leaky Cauldron and Belladonna Cottage, the next stop was in London. Harry fell into the familiar rhythm of organizing stops and calling out addresses, watching the sky darken and stars appear.

“Okay Ernie, Hogwarts gates next. It’s time for me to get some sleep.”

“Right away kid. Don’t beat the snakes too bad.”

“No promises. Goodnight everybody.”

Gwen leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, “Good luck Harry, avenge the Ravenclaws.”

Harry blushed as the Knight Bus sped off, Stan shouting “and the ‘Ufflepuffs!” as it disappeared again. He sighed and began the walk up to the castle, the lonely trek back to Hogwarts was the worst part of his job. At least it had gotten warmer during the spring break, he hadn’t even needed a coat when he had visited Bathilda.

Something caught his eye. Curious, Harry scanned the edge of the Forbidden Forest for what had moved. There was a white shape moving closer. Wait. The white shape appeared to be a cat, more specifically, Lucy.

“Lucifer!” He hissed, “What are you doing out here? Did you sneak out when I left for work?”

Lucy startled at stared at him, then he saw the ginger cat that accompanied her. “Are you and Crookshanks sneaking out together? Honestly, you’re lucky that Ron hasn’t seen y- Oh no.”

A black dog was behind the two cats. At the sound of Harry’s voice it froze and then dashed off into the forest. “Oh my god. Lucifer, get over here right now. I can’t believe this.” Harry stared into the trees where the dog had disappeared to once more.

That was the Grim with his cat, again. How many times had he seen it before almost dying or getting injured? How many items would it take before he finally died from it? “Lucy, listen here, I know you’re smart. Stay away from that dog.”

“Mrow?” Lucy stared up at him with wide eyes, the picture of innocence.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll carry you back to the tower. But if I catch you out here again I’ll let Hedwig go after you. You know how protective she is. Come on Crookshanks, you’re coming too.”

Harry lifted the Siamese into his arms and Crookshanks trailed behind him. He must have looked ridiculous as he walked back to Gryffindor tower. He finally set Lucy down and allowed her dart off towards the fire. Harry rolled his eyes and went to bed, but twisting with nerves as he tried to ignore that his cat had been seen with the Grim once again. Once is coincidence, twice is attempted murder.

-

They won the Quidditch Cup for the first time in years. Harry was lifted onto the shoulders of his teammates, cheered for by the crowds, carried off to a raging party, and yet what he was most looking forward to was telling his  _family._ And wasn’t that something? Harry had a family to tell about his achievements.

So after he finally managed to change into his uniform in the bathroom and escape his party under the invisibility cloak, it felt like the best part of the night. While he enjoyed the parties he definitely did not enjoy being crowded and applauded, too many people thanking him for being an orphan had crushed any desire to be recognized in his three years in the wizarding world. As he exited the school Harry charmed his hair an obnoxious mix of red and gold that clashed horribly with the purple uniform, then set off down the road to the Hogwarts gates.

The Knight Bus appeared with a bang and Stan leaped out. “So, did you win? Oh, is that red and gold ‘air I see? Ern? ‘E definitely won!”

A cheer came from within the bus and Harry grinned as he climbed on. “I won. Hey Ernie, sorry about your house, but we crushed the snakes.”

“Boo!” Ernie slammed on the gas, throwing them all backwards, “But really, well done.”

“How much did you win by little lightning?” Sophia smiled softly at him and Harry only tensed slightly at the nickname. She had figured out his identity weeks and weeks ago and had since assigned him the nickname little lightning.

“230 to 20,” Harry stated proudly. It had been an incredible win.

She stole his hat and messed up his hair, “Good job kid. I guess the Slytherin win streak had to end at some point.” She sighed, lamenting the loss of her house’s glory.

“That’s my little bro, a little Quidditch star. Next thing you know ‘e’ll be on ‘is way to the World Cup.” Stan wiped away fake tears and Harry flushed deeply. Being called little brother by Stan filled him with a deep pleasure and pure happiness.

He was intrigued though, “What’s the World Cup?”

Silence. Finally, after several moments of silence, Sophia asked, “You don’t know what the Quidditch World Cup is? But you’re a quidditch player.”

Everyone else seemed just as perplexed. “Well, you know I grew up with muggles. And nobody seems to remember that I don’t know anything so they just don’t tell me all of these normal things that I’m supposed to know about.”

Everyone kept staring at Harry so he awkwardly continued, “It’s alright though. I’m used to not being told anything. I thought my parents died in a car crash until I was eleven and that magic wasn’t real...” He trailed off when it seemed that he had simply made everything worse.

“Harry,” Sophia spoke in a gentle yet tense voice, “What’s your address?”

“What? Why would you want my address?”

There was something dark in her eyes that, terrifyingly enough, reminded him of when Snape or Uncle Vernon got truly angry at Harry. “Because you should not have grown up hearing that your incredibly brave parents were killed in a car accident. And you should not have grown up hearing that magic is not real because that does awful things to magical children. Have you ever heard of Obscurials?”

He shook his head, feeling as though he were about to hear something quite awful. He was correct. “An Obscurial is a magical child who repressed their own magic for the point where it becomes something like a parasite that lashes out at others and eventually kills the host. They used to be fairly common but now they are mostly gone as the wizarding world is more hidden. So your so called family telling you there isn’t magic, and therefore making you subconsciously suppress your magic, could have killed you and them if you had truly tried to stop your magic.”

“Oh.” That was, well, horrifying. To think that he could have broken his magic so badly as a child that it began to lash out at the world and eventually kill Harry? He had never considered that the Dursleys making him believe magic was fake and something awful could have truly harmed him.

“So, what’s your address again?”

“Sophia, no.” Ernie’s voice was unusually stern. He shook his head, “You cannot harm the muggles. We just have to protect him from them as best we can. You know that the Ministry wouldn’t do anything.”

“Yes, but muggle authorities do happen to care about children. If you won’t let me do anything, they could.” She argued. 

“No,” He shook his head again, “For some reason he’s been kept there. Harry, who placed you there?”

“Uh, Dumbledore. He said it was to keep me safe or something.”

“There you go. Dumbledore wants him there so Dumbledore will keep him there.He’s got the Ministry in his pocket if he wants it but he hasn’t done anything to help our world get better other than fight in the war. He insisted on being a leader for good in the war but when the fighting was over, what did he do? Nothing. He went back to his school and didn’t even try to pass laws or anything.”

Harry was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. Sure, he didn’t like that Dumbledore had put him either the Dursley’s either. But he still admired Dumbledore, thought he was a good man and helped Harry. He had saved him from dying after fighting Quirrell in first year after all. Except, that could have been avoided if Dumbledore had had better protections, or had not decided that was the day he would finally visit the Ministry. But no, Harry firmly believed that Dumbledore had Harry’s best interests at heart. Even if he did keep sending him back to the Dursley’s after Hagrid had shown up and Harry clearly knew nothing about magic at all. It was complicated.

“Didn’t you say you ‘ad been kicked out when we first met you?” Stan finally asked.

Had he? “Well, it was kind of a mutual agreement. I left and was told to leave. But it doesn’t really matter, I’m fine now. Dumbledore will probably force them to take me back like always and I’ll just leave as soon as I can.”

Stan looked pained, “You was barely thirteen then. I know that I’ve been kicked out before but it was never that long. You ‘ad us picking you up from the Leaky Cauldron for weeks!”

“It’s okay, really. I didn’t want to be with them. This was basically my best summer yet!” Apparently, that was once again the wrong thing to say. Harry quickly hurried on, “I enjoyed staying in the wizarding world, and it meant that I got to meet you lot.”

“Aw, you do love us. But still, it’s really not okay for them to kick you out like that. How ‘bout this, this summer you can stay with me instead of the Leaky Cauldron or your shit relatives. That sound good to you?”

“Oh, well, I,” Harry blundered, “I don’t want to be a bother. And really, the Leaky Cauldron is fine!”

Sophia interrupted, “Uh uh, nope. While I do love my place of work, no. You’re going to stay with Stan and you can stay with me too. We can play pass around with you. You’re not a bother.”

“Harry,” Ernie interrupted again. “What did your relatives do to you? I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but did they hit you, call you names? Anything like that?”

Harry nervously drummed the edge of the seat and avoided everybody’s expectant eyes. Did he really want to tell them? ...Yes, he did. They would understand, they wouldn’t pity him or make him feel stupid. They were his family now and family meant something important.

“I didn’t really get hit a lot. Only occasionally when my Uncle Vernon was really mad. Sometimes it happened when I-“ He paused. “When I did accidental magic. They hated it so much. They would call me a freak and for a while I was only addressed as boy, still was until I left actually.”

A quick glance told him that everybody was sympathetic and angry, but not at him. He had learned to read adults fairly well. “They liked to throw things near me. Not necessarily  at  me, but close enough that I’d flinch because I had been hit by things before. My cousin, he’s my age, he and his friends liked to chase me around. That wasn’t a big deal though because I was a pretty fast runner. I think the worst thing they did was not feed me for a couple days. And lock me in my-“

Should he reveal the cupboard? His most well guarded secret? He had told a nice teacher once who was concerned that Harry never had well fitting clothes like his cousin and was too thin. People showed up to the house and Harry was shoved into Dudley’s second room and told to lie to the people. The friendly people didn’t believe him though and told him they would help, but they never did come back. Then he was too ashamed to tell his friends that he had been sleeping in a tiny broom closet under some stairs.

“Harry? Hey, you’re alright now. Where did they lock you?” Sophia’s eyes were soft and warm in a way that they only were for him when he mentioned getting hurt.

“My, my c-“ He took a deep breath. “The cupboard, where I slept.”

“Please tell me that it was a small room and they just called it a cupboard.” Stan didn’t seem to believe it himself so Harry simply told the truth.

“No, a broom cupboard. Under the stairs. It locked and they kept me there when I was bad, or they had company, or when they just wanted me out of sight.”

“Did they not have any other rooms? Or was the cupboard specifically for you?”

“There was a guest room, and my cousin’s second bedroom for all of his extra stuff,” Harry admitted. Strangely, his throat was feeling choked, as though Quirrell were grabbing it to strangle him again.

“Hey, that’s okay Harry. You’ve told us a lot and it will take time. You don’t have to worry, you’re safe now. You’re with us and we won’t let them hurt you here.” Stan was rubbing his back and Harry belatedly realized that he was sobbing.

Still, he pushed on because he had already started and he couldn’t stop because if he did he might not ever speak again. “When I got my letter they burned them, ripped them up, made us move away. Then Hagrid came and I learned about magic. Uncle Vernon, he, he had a gun. He was going to, going to shoot Hagrid if he hadn’t bent the gun. They moved me into Dudley’s second room but they put bars on the windows and covered the door in locks. After first year they just, locked up all of my stuff in the cupboard so I couldn’t do any of my work. And, and my owl was locked in her cage, for months. A house elf blocked my mail, long story, and Ron and his brothers came to rescue me. They used the flying car to pull the bars off the window and fly me away.”

Harry then covered his eyes and wailed, “They saw the bars! They saw them, they pulled them off! I told them my relatives were terrible! They saw the stupid cat flap for my food and the stupid tiny bowl of soup and they told Mrs. Weasley and I thought I had escaped! But she just, she just brushed them off, brushed them off as if they hadn’t just told her I was locked in a room with seven extra locks and barred windows and a cat flap so they could give me food without letting me out. And they dropped it, just went back to, to discussing the car and the flight and school.”

There were several sniffles from the gathered crowd. “And you know what, I get it. They’re just kids and they don’t really think things can be awful. Especially not for me because I’m, I’m famous and rich and everything is great and  _I’m still just an orphan_ . I realized that I would just stay, stay there with the Dursley’s at fucking Number Four Privet Drive where everything is normal and the neighbors ignore me being beaten up by my cousin and his friends. I would just stay there until I was seventeen, if I made it to seventeen, and then leave. And they would be glad and I would be glad and it would just be done with. But it won’t, it won’tever be done with. I’ll still always be Harry Potter, the boy who lived and the boy who thought he was a muggle and the boy who didn’t, doesn’t, know how to make friends. And that wouldn’t be okay. I, I won’t, I won’t be okay.”

Distantly and yet too close at the same time, Harry felt a pair of arms wrap around him. The smell of Stan’s deodorant identified the owner of the arms and Harry leaned back into them. It might not be okay, but Stan would help. “Hey, I’ve got you Harry. You’re my little bro and I’ve got you now. Your life ‘as been pretty shit, I won’t lie, but I’ve got you now.”

Harry relaxed further into Stan’s arm, limp and exhausted and cheeks wet with tears that wouldn’t stop. He closed his eyes and let himself pretend that he was normal. That Harry Potter was really just David Thorin who had the best older brother ever, the kindest aunt, the greatest grandfather, and various other relatives who cared about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I think that Dumbledore would mess with CPS to keep Harry with blood wards? Yes, yes I do.  
> Ernie is the crime grandfather Harry never knew he needed. Ernie: Be aroace do crime
> 
> Worldbuilding: Family magic is a rare and closely guarded secret. It runs in just a few families and the lines that hold it are the favored for Lord/Lady and Head of family. Family magic takes many forms such as a certain way to cast some spells, use of wild magic, innate talent in a specific field, or being a metamorphogous. Ollivander- wand making proficiency, Black- metamorphogous, Prang- can tie magic of blood relatives to blood runes


	20. A Rat Retrieved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s finals week and Trelawney decides to stop being a fraud for two whole minutes. But Harry has no time for her, there’s an execution that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha! Let the canon divergence begin!

The week of finals was probably one of the most stressful weeks of Harry’s life, and he had faced a fifty foot long snake with deadly eyes and venomous fangs with just a sword. The Professors had taken their students’ exams up a notch, it seemed with the additional classes came additional expectations. Harry flew through Defense Against the Dark Arts, an obstacle course, as well as Study of Ancient Runes, a two part exam that was half defining and half writing out a simple rune circle that they had learned in class. He had also finished his History of Magic exam in record time, even beating Hermione to everyone’s surprise, as he just did other homework or reading during class. However, listening to Bathilda talk and going through her study guide had immensely helped. Even Morwen’s fantastical tales had come in handy a couple of times and were apparently based almost entirely on fact.

Yet the worst was left for last. Divination was Harry’s last exam and he had already made up his mind that if his third eye didn’t immediately show him something he would simply weave the most gruesome picture he could for Trelawney.

One by one, students got called into the classroom. One by one, they left either laughing about their predictions or wallowing about the lack of images in a crystal ball. Harry thought it was rather stupid to grade students on whether or not they had a highly specific gift that could also be faked by a mediocre storyteller. And then it was his turn.

Harry sat on the uncomfortably plush chair and gazed into the crystal ball. It was full of writhing gray mist and nothing else. No images rose, no shapes emerged. Making things up it was, then.

“Tell me, what do you see in the ball, dear?” Trelawney’s eyes were magnified to ten times their normal size behind her thick glasses. Her beaded necklaces jangled and Harry had a hard time thinking of anything at all through the thick smell of incense.

“I see, a shape. It’s slowly forming into something. Perhaps it is symbolizing growth? Yes, there it is,” Harry tried to remember what Morwen had taught him about storytelling. Stick to the truth and let the audience piece it together for you. “A hippogriff.”

“Hagrid’s hippogriff?”

“Yes, that’s the one! There’s an axe behind it. I think the hippogriff slowly forming was the creation of its trial, the forming of its last days!”

Trelawney looked very pleased with this prediction so far. Harry took that as a sign to continue. “The axe fell, but it phased right through the hippogriff. Now it’s flying, flying away. “

“No, blood, gore, beheading? Not even a little bit?” There was definitely disappointment in that statement and Harry struggled not to hit his violence loving professor.

“The flying, I see now. It flying away represents its freedom, freedom from this earth, and this life. And now it’s gone.” Harry thought he had done quite well. He hadn’t even bought one of the fake predictions that some students were providing for those less creatively inclined. Fred and George had simply passed out bits of parchment that said things like ‘A batty old woman dies suffocating on smoke’ or ‘A woman is choked to death by her own necklaces’. Harry thought those were a bit cruel to give to his Professor, even if Trelawney would have immensely enjoyed them.

“Wonderful, my boy. You may go now.” Trelawney jotted something down on her clipboard then went ramrod straight.

Harry paused, “Professor? Professor are you alright?”

Trelawney’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and Harry wondered if he was witnessing a seizure. Then she spoke, in a horrible rasping voice that was not her own.

“The reunion happens tonight...”

“I’m- sorry? What?” Trelawney ignored him.

“The servant has lain dormant for twelve years. He without a name is weak, alone and desperate. Tonight, before midnight... The servant will awaken and flee for his master. The Dark Lord will once again rise with the help of his follower, stronger and more horrible than he ever was. Tonight... before midnight... a man lost... a man saved... a freedom that aids the master.”

Trelawney’s eyes returned to normal and she let out a little cough, “Oh dear me, I suppose I dozed off. Are you alright?”

Harry did not, in fact, feel alright. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

In a daze, he left the tower and returned to his dorm room. He grabbed the Marauder’s Map and the invisibility cloak, Ron and Hermione confusedly following him.

“Harry are you alright?” Ron asked.

“Aren’t we going to go see Buckbeak? I thought we were going to comfort Hagrid.”

“Yeah, in a moment. I’ve got to do something first.” Harry pulled open the door to Remus’s office.

“Ah, hello Harry. Is there something I can do for you?” Remus looked up from a stack of papers.

“Not really, just, Trelawney said something weird so, take this? Please? It’s probably nothing because she’s a fraud but it was odd, so,” Harry thrust the map forward. Maybe it was nothing and Trelawney was just a weird old fake, but just in case, Harry had been trying to work on trusting adults.

Remus took the offered parchment and set it carefully on his desk. “If you’re sure? I’d be honored to hold onto it for you.”

Harry nodded stiffly and left the office. Ron finally asked again, “Honestly mate, have you gone barmy? You just handed Lupin a piece of parchment and you both acted like it was some great gift. What’s going on?”

“It wasn’t just a bit of parchment,” Harry said distractedly. “That was the Marauder’s Map, shows the whole school and everyone in it.”

Behind Harry’s back, Ron and Hermione exchanged concerned glances. They seemed to have become a staple of the school year for them when Harry was involved.

“So, down to Hagrid’s now?” Harry still wasn’t quite paying attention, mind occupied by thoughts of servants and masters.

“Mate, what’s the Marauder’s Map and how’d you get it? If it’s a map that tracks everyone in the castle then it could be dangerous.”

“What?” That broke him out of his stupor, “How could the map be dangerous? Oh shit, I’m sorry, I was going to tell you about the map on the train.”

“That’s not the problem right now Harry, though I would like to discuss where you got such an intricate map of the school. What we’re saying is, how do you know that it’s not like Riddle’s diary?” Harry slowed and looked back at Hermione. Her face was filled with genuine concern which made him reconsider the map.

“No, it’s definitely not like Riddle’s diary. It doesn’t actually talk to you unless you get the passcode wrong. And, well, I know the makers of the map. My dad helped make it.”

Apparently that seemed to clear the confusion about why Harry and kept it secret. Both of his friends knew and understood his desperate desire for a connection to his parents, and his father actually owned heirlooms that could be passed on. Hermione pushed on, “Alright, we’ll talk more about this later. But right now Hagrid needs us. I think we all know that Buckbeak isn’t surviving this, no matter how unlawful it is.”

The walk across the grounds to Hagrid’s hut was solemn and utterly silent. They carefully shuffled up to the door under the invisibility cloak and knocked quickly. Hagrid opened the door to the seemingly empty air but Ron quickly assured him of their presence and they rushed inside.

“You shouldn’t ‘a come. ‘S’not right for you ter be seein’ this.” Hagrid’s voice was choked by tears as he tried to serve them tea. 

He managed to shatter the milk jug but Hermione jumped to help him, “It’s alright Hagrid. I’ll just grab another one, are they in here?”

“Yeah, jus’ there. Thank you Hermione. Yer too sweet.”

Hermione pulled out another jug and nearly dropped it. She was pale and finally stuttered out, “Scabbers?”

“What? What do you mean, Scabbers?” Ron rushed over.

Hermione gingerly held up an incredibly thin and raggedy rat that did indeed look like Scabbers. The poor thing was shaking in fright and attempted to flee. “No, no, you’re okay Scabbers, you’re safe. There’s no mean cat to eat you here.”

“Actually, Scabbers being here means that Crookshanks  didn’t eat Scabbers.”

“Whatever, he still hunted poor Scabbers down.”

Hagrid thankfully interrupted before it could become another full blown agreement. “Yeh’ve got to go! They’re comin’!”

They were quickly ushered out the back door and soon disappeared under the cloak. There was polite talk as the trio edged away and then the unintelligible words turned sharper. Hermione clutched Harry’s hand so hard that it was painful as they heard Hagrid’s door open.

“Scabbers, bloody hell! He keeps trying to escape. Bugger, stop biting me! You piece of shit I’m trying to take you back to the castle!” Ron wrestled with Scabbers, who seemed intent on escaping into the grass.

Then the sound of an axe falling cut through the air. Hermione whimpered and buried her face in Ron’s shoulder. “I can’t- I can’t believe that they did it!”

“It’s alright Hermione, we did everything that we could. Ow! What the fuck! Scabbers!” The rat in question took advantage of Ron’s momentary distraction to bite his hand again.

The reason soon became clear as Crookshanks came into view. And behind him for some reason, was Lucy. And then there was the great beating of paws as something large came dashing towards them. Harry whirled around, limply dropping the cloak as he spotted the Grim.

The giant of a dog barreled towards them. Perhaps if a dog could do Harry in, Harry blankly thought, Voldemort should get tips. Then the dog leaped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School starts tomorrow and I am so stressed because normally I’m prepared and know what I’m doing but this year I’m just a mess.  
> Worldbuilding: Scholar is an incredibly hard to achieve title in the wizarding world. It requires years of study, renown in at least one subject, great ability in several others, and lots of contribution to the knowledgeable understanding of magic and the magical world as a whole. Scholars are often entrusted with magical documents and artifacts to keep safe and eventually pass on to another Scholar or trustworthy individual. Bathilda Bagshot is the only human Scholar in the last two centuries. There are several vampire Scholars who are a tightly knit group that share and collect knowledge, though they are rather secretive and wary of outsiders. These vampires are in control of the greatest magical library ever.


	21. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron is dragged away by a Grim and, as usual, there’s no time to get adults. Luckily everyone’s favorite professor has a certain map...

The Grim sailed straight over Harry and knocked over Ron. The dog, who was very much physical and not a simple omen, snapped at the squealing Scabbers who was locked in a death grip by Ron and then proceeded to bite Ron’s leg and drag him away.

Harry quickly got over his brief shock and pointed his wand at the beast of a dog. “Stupefy! Stupefy!” But the spells missed and the dog and Ron both disappeared into the base of the Whomping Willow.

“Oh my god, a, a dog just kidnapped Ron! We have to get a teacher, or, or someone! Anyone!”

“No, there’s not enough time! We have to get him ourselves. Let’s go!” Harry snatched up the invisibility cloak off the ground and went to grab Hermione’s arm.

She ripped her arm away from him, “No, Harry! That’s the Whomping Willow, it will kill us! Besides, we don’t even know that much offensive magic!” 

“Hermione, an omen of death just  _ stole  _ Ron! We have to try!”

She paused, then nodded, and the pair nervously edged closer to the Whomping Willow. Harry was just about to run towards it and start dodging when Lucy nimbly made her way passed the thrashing branches and pressed a paw against a knot in the trunk. The swinging branches instantly stilled.

Harry wasted no time, “Come on, let’s go!”

Lucy meowed at them as they approached and Crookshanks darted ahead into the tunnel. “How, how did she know to do that?”

“I’ve seen them together,” Harry answered gravely as they entered the tunnel. “Our cats and that dog, walking together at night.”

Lucifer meowed again and weaved down the dirt packed hall. Hermione shuddered as they reached what appeared to be a torn apart house and spotted the streak of blood on the floor. Timidly she questioned, “Where are we?”

“The Shrieking Shack.” It was horrible, even with his mind focused on retrieving Ron he couldn’t help but imagine Remus stuck here. Once a month for seven years, his body ripping itself apart and then being forced to destroy everything. Remus had called it wonderful, having this place to be safe and away from people, Harry thought it was cruel.

They carefully made their way up the creaking stairs until the blood led into what appeared to be a bedroom. They rushed forwards to where Ron sat on the bed, white and shaking, clutching his bleeding leg with one hand and Scabbers with the other. But where was the dog?

“Harry, no! The dog, it’s not a dog! He’s an animagus!” Ron shouted a desperate warning as they approached.

But it was too late. The door swung shut and locked. Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather and man who caused Lily and James Potter’s murders, stood in front of them.

Black still wore his dirtied prison garb, the white and black stained brown. His long dark hair, once beautiful in photographs, hung in matted and uneven locks. His dark eyes flickered between Harry and Ron and seemed not quite all there. He was terrifying. This was Harry Potter’s last possibility for a legal guardian.

“Hello, Harry.” Black finally croaked out. He held Ron’s wand but kept it pointedly fixed toward Ron’s hand where Scabbers still squirmed.

“Come to finish the job then?” Harry should not have said that. He should not be talking. Should be running for help. Should be screaming for help. Harry should not be standing there, no shaking, no fear, only determination as he stared at the man responsible for all of the trouble in his life. There was only rage and a wash of cold anger. “Is that it?”

“No,” Black choked out. “Only one will be dying tonight.”

“No? What the fuck does that mean!” Harry wanted to scream and throw something, but Black still had his wand trained on Ron.

He dissolved into frantic muttering, “No, no, no, it’s not you, never you. No, no, no! It’s the traitor! The rat!”

“You’re the traitor! You killed them, you killed them and you want to kill me too! But I won’t let you hurt anyone else you sick bastard!” Harry moved to cast a spell but suddenly Black pointed the wand at him instead and he was frozen.

“No, I’m sorry Harry! It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me! I need to kill him, need justice for them.” The wand is refocused on Ron, on Scabbers, and a horrible thought drifts through Harry’s mind. A rat. Is it possible that Peter Pettigrew, the rat animagus, survived Sirius Black’s attack and hid in fear of retaliation from loyal death eaters?

“B- back off! If you want to kill Harry, well, then, you’ll have to kill me first!” Ron, brave and loyal Ron, stood on his broken and bloody leg in between his best friend and a notorious mass murderer. Harry wanted to cry and to pull Ron away and to not be reminded of first year Ron crumpled on a chess board and looking oh so  _dead in Harry’s name_ .

“That will not be necessary. I am only killing one tonight. And it’s not you, or Harry, or your friend. No, I am going to commit the murder that has already sent me to hell. Hand over the rat!” Black looked truly deranged then, eyes wild and definitely not sane. Voldemort had been terrifyingly cool and detached for the most part, this though, this was a whole new kind of terrifying.

“No! What do you want with Scabbers?” Ron clutched the squeaking rat to his chest.

“Hand him over. That’s no rat!” Black lunged forwards and the door banged open.

Harry could have sobbed in relief, for there in the doorway was Remus Lupin, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, accomplished duelist in times of war, and filled with personal knowledge of how Black fought. Remus’s eyes flickered over each of the children, taking in wounds and dirt and fear, wand steadily pointed at Black’s heart. “How lucky it is that Harry left me a certain map. At first I thought it was broken, after all, Pettigrew has been dead for years. And here I thought that you were the traitor, but of course, you didn’t trust me. You must have switched without telling anyone. Is that right?”

“Remus! Yes, my friend, that’s right! I knew you would believe me! Help me! Help me kill the traitor that killed Lily and James!”

Remus did not drop his wand. “I will not be put away for murder when I have a responsibility to Harry. One that you ignored all those years ago. You may be innocent of Peter’s death but you are not in your right mind. Please drop the wand. You know that I could always take you in a duel and you’re twelve years out of practice.”

The look on Black’s face was an odd mix of heart wrenching guilt and hope. He rolled Ron’s wand to Remus. “Please, Remus, I’m innocent. Please, the rat.”

“Ron, kindly hand over your rat.”

“Don’t Ron! He can’t be trusted! He’s probably been working with Black, he’s a werewolf!” Hermione, clearly in distress and trying to understand the situation, shouted at her friend. Ron paled and stumbled away from their kindly professor.

Remus flinched, subtle enough that Harry barely caught it. Nothing had ever made him want to yell at Hermione more. “I’m afraid that you only got one of the two right Hermione. Unusual for you, but I’m sure it’s because of stress and lack of information. I have not been working with Black, am still not actually. But yes, I am indeed a werewolf. How, may I ask, did you figure it out? The boggart perhaps? Or maybe Snape’s essay?”

“Both, actually. And when Professor Snape assigned it Harry got mad at him. I assumed that he knew but didn’t want to confront him. What do you want Scabbers?” Hermione’s fingers were white as she clutched her wand in a death grip.

“Simple!” Sirius Black barked out. “Peter Pettigrew is that rat! That’s how he escaped me, all they found was a finger they said! Of course he did it himself, blew up the street, cut off a finger, and fled to the sewer to hide with his brethren.” He attempted to lunge again but Remus grabbed him.

“Of course, he’s missing a finger. Peter Pettigrew is an animagus, as Harry can confirm for you. So when Sirius went to confront him Peter shouted for all the world to hear that Sirius was guilty before setting him up as a murderer. Ingenious. I never knew he had it in him, but I suppose there was a lot we didn’t know about him. If you wouldn’t mind handing Peter over? I promise this won’t hurt him if he really is a rat.” Remus held out his hand to Ron, pretending not to notice the way his adoring student recoiled from him.

“If you hurt him,” Ron threatened, handing over his until recently dead rat.

“Never,” Remus said with the most wolfish expression Harry had ever seen him wear.

A blue light hit Scabbers, who grew into a man. And then Sirius Black was not a murderer and traitor and the world’s worst godfather, he was an innocent man clearly half insane with guilt and the need for revenge. And he was family again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this? Remus understand that Sirius is not mentally okay if he’s still down for murder? Shocking.  
> Okay, I survived my first day of school. I also finally finished the chapter that I’ve been stuck on for like two weeks. I had some extreme inspiration last night which led to the creation of another book but today the inspiration carried over and I finished chapter nine of the next book. Seriously, screw chapter nine.  
> Worldbuilding: The vampire run library holds a great mass of texts and the more rare or dangerous books are only accessible to those who prove themselves worthy of the knowledge or are only interested in learning and understanding. It is visited by wizards from all over the world and is incredibly famous. There are several cats that wander the library, they are the reincarnated pets of the vampires and a few other historians that reside in the library. Several dark wizards have attempted to break in and steal knowledge or trick the vampires but none have succeeded. It is one of the most heavily warded and protected places in the entirety of the wizarding world.
> 
> I promise not all of my random world building will be about vampires lol


	22. An Unwelcome Intruder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rat is revealed and questions are asked.

“Bloody hell!”

An accurate description of the situation. An innocent mass murderer, a kindly werewolf, the boy who lived, a rat that was actually a dead man, and two students. A horrible joke and a worse experience.

The man that used to be Scabbers but was now Peter Pettigrew began to grovel at Remus’s feet. “Oh Remus, my old friend! Please help me! You heard him, he wants to kill me! He’s insane!”

Sirius laughed, a haunted and gleeful thing, “I guess the famous Black madness finally caught up to me. Or maybe it was the twelve years in Azkaban? Those twelve years that I spent because of you!”

Pettigrew cowered back at the roar of Sirius’s words. “Save me! Remus!”

“Tell me Peter, if you really are innocent,” He frantically nodded his head. “Why have you stayed hidden as a rat for twelve years? We could have protected you, Dumbledore would have helped you.”

“I was scared, so scared. He has followers everywhere, even now! How could I ever be safe after imprisoning Sirius, his most loyal servant?” Pettigrew’s watery blue eyes shone with tears as he tried to grasp the ends of Remus’s robes.

“Loyal servant?” Black was outraged, “I was loyal only to Lily and James! To the Order, the cause,  _our_ cause.”

“Enough Sirius, be quiet. But, how did you manage to escape Azkaban? Without a wand you only could have done ancient ritual magic or family magic. Nothing from your family is anywhere close to good.”

“The Dark Lord obviously taught him tricks! Dark magic that he used to free himself!”

“Another good question, why escape now, if not to go after Harry? Why attack the school? How were you so sure that Peter was even alive?” Peter started to slink away as Remus’s wand turned but froze as Harry quickly turned his own on the rat animagus.

“Turning into a dog doesn’t require a wand, of course. Dementors can’t sense animal emotions as well as human ones. I didn’t inherit the Black family magic and it would be useless anyway. Several months ago Fudge came to the prison holding a newspaper. And who was on the front page other than little Peter Pettigrew, disguised as Wormtail with a wizarding family. I asked for the paper and it said that they would be returning to Hogwarts, to Harry. So I escaped, swam across the ocean as a dog after I squeezed through the bars.” This man had swum across an ocean to keep him safe? Harry was impressed but still slightly concerned for the man’s sanity.

Sirius continued, “I finally reached Hogwarts and met this brilliant cat. He told me everything I needed to know about the odd untrustworthy rat that wasn’t a rat in Gryffindor tower.”

“Crookshanks was working with you?” Hermione blurted out.

“That cat tried to kill me! Ron, please, it tried to kill me!” Peter wailed in Ron’s direction.

In contrast to the rest of the year, Ron did not leap to his rat’s defense and get mad at Crookshanks. “You- you- you’ve been sleeping in my bed! In Percy’s! Stay away from me!”

Remus finally focused on Ron’s leg, “Hermione, do you remember the basic first aid charm you were taught at the beginning of the year?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Hermione quickly stopped the blood from flowing down Ron’s leg and Sirius continued his story.

“Then, I tried to break in on Halloween when everyone was at the feast. My temper got the better of me then, I was distraught at the anniversary of their deaths. But as I fled I met an old friend. Lucifer darling, not a kitten anymore, was quite relieved to find another link to the past. One that could explain the rat that smelled like the untrustworthy man she used to know. She also helped me learn of the Quidditch match. I so desperately wanted to see you play, so much like your father you are. I’m afraid that I scared you though, and then the dementors were there and I had to flee.

“The next time I broke in I had a plan. Crookshanks had stolen me a list of the passwords and I had acquired a knife. The rat had faked his own death again and was hiding in the dorms still. So I snuck in at night and was going to kill Peter but you woke up. I apologize for the fright.”

Ron mumbled, “Oh, ‘s’alright,” and sank further into the ripped mattress.

“I couldn’t find Peter after that, he had gotten cleverer. Then I saw you three struggling, the cloak had slipped and you had the rat again. I couldn’t let him go, not again! I want to commit the murder that I was sentenced for!” Black was shouting again and nobody noticed the door swing open.

“Well, well, well. It must be my lucky night.” Lucy hissed at a random spot then a patch of the air shimmered and Snape became visible. “A convict and a traitor. I wonder if I’ll get rewarded for turning you in or if I can just kill you now in self defense? I heard they’ll give you the kiss though, I might like to see that.”

“Snape? How did you get here?” Sirius snarled like a feral animal.

“It’s called a disillusionment spell, I suppose Azkaban rotted what little brains you had.” Snape glared at Sirius even more fiercely than he glared at Harry. There was a first for everything it seemed.

Remus tried to keep the peace, “Severus is a professor at the school alongside me. Now, Severus, you must listen. There are things you don’t understand.”

“Oh I understand plenty. Lupin, you’d forgotten your potion tonight so I went to your office only to find the most mysterious object. And who do I see but Sirius Black? It seems these foolish children have supported you, they will be punished accordingly. Now, let’s go to the authorities before you succumb to the moon madness. Come along Black, your soul will be removed within the hour, and if we hurry the dementors may take the werewolf’s too.”

“No!” Harry let out a strangled cry, the thought of losing Remus, and Sirius to a lesser extent, to soul sucking monsters was too much. Snape whirled in surprise at the outburst. “Stupefy!”

The spell hit Snape with so much force that he was knocked off his feet. He slammed unconscious to the floor and Sirius wheezed with his first genuine laughter. “Ha! Just like your dad!”

Somehow, that comparison didn’t make Harry feel as warm inside as his messy hair being compared. He had just attacked his teacher, was that something his father made a habit of? Hermione was even less pleased, “Oh god, Harry. You just attacked a teacher!”

“Come off it Hermione, he was threatening us!”

Peter lunged for the door and another spell from Remus took him down as well. There was silence. Remus finally spoke as he conjured ropes around the unconscious man, “We’ll bring him to the castle, clear Sirius’s name.”

Sirius’s eyes lit up. He looked slightly uncomfortable as he began to talk, “Now, Harry, I don’t know if you know this. But I’m your godfather, so when my name gets cleared, I could take you in. Now I know you probably won’t want to leave your relatives but it’s always an option for you.”

“Seriously?” Black looked as though he were trying to bite his lip even as his face fell. “Of course I want to!”

He wouldn’t have to be taken back to the Dursley’s if someone found out he had run away. He wouldn’t have to stay in the Leaky Cauldron. He wouldn’t have to burden his new family. No! He wasn’t a burden. But he could still live with someone that had a legal claim to him. He wouldn’t be taken away.

Sirius looked greatly pleased. Of course the happiness couldn’t last as the group reached the bottom floor of the shack. Remus suddenly gasped, clutching at his heart, “Go! Go now! I didn’t take my potion and it’s a full moon tonight!”

Ron and Hermione needed no further prompting, eyes wide they sprinted down the tunnel, dragging along the floating bodies of Pettigrew and Snape. Harry waited another moment, frozen as he heard the scream of pain and snapping of bone, before running away. He pulled Sirius along, desperately trying to ignore the uncontrollable wailing of his usually calm and collected professor.

They all stumbled into the dark grounds. Harry took a deep breath as they moved out of reach of the Whomping Willow. They were safe, Remus would be fine in the morning, Sirius would have his name cleared, Pettigrew would be arrested, Ron would be healed, and Harry would have his godfather back.

Cold, mind blanking cold, descended upon them and Harry’s heart sank as the last words of his mother echoed through his mind. The dementors had come to collect their prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Harry, nothing ever goes to plan.  
> We’re getting close to the end of this book! I’ve gotten a lot of inspiration this past week (it comes from procrastinating homework) so I’m replenishing my extra chapters. I still don’t have a definite plan for posting the second book. I may take a week or two off or maybe I’ll just post once a week. In November I will be doing NaNoWriMo and the sequel is my project so I’ll most likely post twice a week that month.  
> Worldbuilding: Young children who are more powerful than usual or use lots of accidental magic often have a different appearance. This can also be caused by an excess of spells cast on them. Magic has odd effects on children because they are developing very rapidly and have little control over their own magic. Older children are safer from this because their bodies learn to accept more magic as it comes under their control. Children exposed to lots of magic tend to have some combination of strangely colored eyes or hair, long fingers, and sharp teeth. Such people are either respected as being that wielded magic from a young age or disdained for looking different. There is no set view on them from purebloods, with some valuing children that showcase their prominent magic and others thinking their differences make them more similar to half breeds.


	23. A Man Lost, A Man Saved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dementors have come to collect a soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is a pretty heavy chapter (for this fic) at the beginning. The first half has a general tone of fear and Harry experiences a panic attack.

Cold. Fear. Cold. Despair. Cold.

The dementors were swooping wildly, eager for their feast. Ron and Hermione dropped their levitation spells, rousing the two unconscious men. Harry vaguely saw Sirius dashing away, hands over his ears and eyes somewhere else, sobbing apologies. A weak shimmer emerged when Harry cast his patronus, but there were simply too many of them.

“Ron, Hermione, just run! I’ll be fine, run!”

They sent him a fleeting glance, clearly affected by the dementors as they turned to escape. Harry was about to run himself as he saw Snape waking up. The dark haired man struggled to sit up, then attempted to draw his wand. But it was too late.

A dementor flew low, stopping above Pettigrew. Rotting hands slowly removed the oversized hood. Harry could watch in horror as the hood dropped to reveal a clammy-not a face-skull. The skin was perfectly white and stretched tightly the skull, which was oddly smooth and unblemished. There were no eye sockets, no nose, no ears. Only a gaping hole, larger than a mouth and more central. Inside was not skin, simply blackness, forever empty.

The dementor seemed to suck in a breath and the air rattled and the temperature sunk lower. A single word, not exactly spoken aloud, made its way to Harry’s mind. “Mine.”

Something incredibly tiny rose out of Pettigrew’s mouth. He shrieked and struggled against the ropes holding him down, unable to escape. Pure terror. There was a crack as he seemed to break a bone in his thrashing but he did not stop. Harry broke out of the trance and tried again to cast a patronus but only a feeble white mist kept back the dementors closest to him. He was too weak. Pettigrew would have a fate worse than death.

Snape tried to sit up again, head lolling, as Pettigrew squirmed. The little ball of light kept rising. His entire life, his being, his soul, all in that one little light. Harry wanted to throw up as he shivered on the frost coated grass. The ball finally entered the gaping hole that was the dementor’s mouth. The kiss was complete. Peter lay limp and unmoving, eyes glazed over as he stared blankly at the sky.

Harry couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to die, he was going to die there on the castle grounds, surrounded by dementors. God he hoped that he died, that he wasn’t kissed. Breath wouldn’t come as he lay there, lungs not working. He was going to suffocate. He was going to die.

A bright white light illuminated the area as Snape struggled to his feet. Something large burst from his wand but Harry only had eyes for Peter. He may have killed his parents but seeing him lying there, alive but so much worse than dead, was the worst thing Harry had ever experienced. It was worse than falling broom his broom hundreds of feet in the air, worse than being choked and burning Quirrell to death, worse than dying alone in the Chamber of Secrets with the memory of Tom Riddle and a near dead Ginny. Then the dementors were pushed back and Harry stumbled to his feet. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Pettigrew’s body, not a corpse, because corpses don’t breathe.

He ran. He ran and ran and knew that he was running to Sirius, to where the dementors had followed. He couldn’t lose Sirius, not right after he had gotten him back. He was going to have a home and a godfather and Sirius would be happy again and not insane from twelve years surrounded by what was coming to steal his soul. Harry crashed through the woods until he found where the dementors were congregating.

Sirius lay limp and whining as hundreds of dementors swarmed around him. For a horrible second Harry thought that he was too late. Then he rushed forwards, desperate to save his godfather. The dementors noticed him then, began to fly by him, stealing hope and happiness and bringing despair to his thoughts.

“No, no. No! You can’t have him, he’s innocent!” Dumbledore’s words floated back to him, dementors cannot be reasoned with. “Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!”

He fell to his knees, unable to walk further. It was as if his legs weighed a thousand pounds, his soul dragging him down. He crawled forwards, continuing to cast weak patronuses as he attempted to reach Sirius. Tears rolled down his cheeks, freezing after just a moment from the sheer amount of dementors.

“Expecto patronum! Ex- expecto- expecto patronum.” His head was heavy, he was so tired. A small light was rising from Sirius’s mouth and Harry wailed. “No! No, no, no I can’t lose you! Please, no! Expecto patronum! Expecto-”

Harry’s head fell to the earth and his vision blurred. No, it couldn’t end this way. There was a burst of light which gradually grew and then it filled the forest, making it seem like day. A brilliant white stag galloped across the lake, effortlessly tossing the dementors away. The light sank back into Sirius’s mouth and the stag bowed before Harry’s body. Then it turned and ran back where it had come and Harry saw the caster. A short man with red hair and glasses patted the stag. He stared right at Harry, his mirror image, and winked.

Overcome with exhaustion, Harry passed out.

-

“-at a mess. There will be an outrage, an innocent man in Azkaban? There will be calls for reforms, no more dementors, my resignation!”

“Minister, please be quiet or I will have to ask you to leave. My patients are resting.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice drifted from somewhere nearby.

An unfamiliar voice started, “Minister Fudge-”

“And why are you here Bartemius? This is partly your mess, you arrested the wrong man!”

“That’s exactly why I’m here. I was there for the detainment of Black and should therefore be involved with the rest of his case. Also, the shock of Peter Pettigrew being, well, alive and Black’s supposed innocence are international news. Which happens to be my division now.” The same unfamiliar voice insisted.

“Fine, very well. Now there’s the matter of the children involved. We’re still not quite sure what happened but Severus Snape claimed he found them with Black and Pettigrew. As Black is innocent and happens to be Harry Potter’s godfather there shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Though I’m concerned about how they found him when he evaded our best aurors for months.”

“And what of Black now? Where is he?”

“He’s currently being held in Filius Flitwick’s office where he is being watched over by two aurors and being examined by a healer. So far it seems as though he is not resisting at all but his mind upon examination by a legilimens seems… scattered. It is unsure what the full extent of the damage is, he was around dementors for years and then almost had his soul removed.”

Harry sat bolt upright. “Sirius!”

“Mr. Potter, good, you’re awake! Now, please lay right back down and eat some chocolate.” Madam Pomfrey bustled over and the two men by the door jumped. She conjured a small hammer and began to break apart a block of chocolate as large as his head.

Harry did not lay back down, “But- Sirius! Is he okay? What happened? What about Ron and Hermione? Are they alright?”

“Mr. Potter! Lay down and eat some chocolate! Your friends are fine, Mr. Weasley is resting his leg and Ms. Granger is with him.” She paused and Harry looked around and spotted his friends on a nearby bed. “Sirius Black is currently being held and examined. He will not be going back to prison but he has to be cleared to rejoin society if his trial goes well. Which it will, so lay down before I cast a sticking charm on you!”

“Mate! How are you? I’m kinda fuzzy, it’s great. You look funny, kinda tilting.” Turning to look at the speaker, Harry saw Ron smiling absently at him.

Harry cast Hermione a concerned look and she explained, “He took a pain potion so Madam Pomfrey could fix his leg. So he’s a bit, well, this.” She waved a hand at him.

“Ah, we must be going, I need to oversee the transport of Pettigrew. Quick recovery to you three.” Minister Fudge quickly led the other man out of the room.

Not five minutes later Dumbledore himself swept into the room, somehow still looking impressive in baby blue robes that had fireworks going off across them. “It is good to see you up Harry. I had worried about the effect of the dementors but it seems your mind is still intact. Now, Poppy dear, I have a private matter to discuss with Harry and Hermione.”

There was a brief staring contest before Madam Pomfrey relented. “Fine, but just ten minutes. And if they strain themselves at all I will not hesitate to throw you from this room.”

“I would expect nothing less Poppy,” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “Now, Harry, Hermione, listen carefully. Your work tonight is not done.”

Harry interrupted, “I know, Headmaster Dumbledore. I need to cast the patronus that saves Sirius and me.”

Hermione looked terribly confused but Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling. “Quite an amazing patronus to be sure, I didn’t realize it was yours at first. But there is a second matter. You can save another life tonight.”

Pettigrew’s limp body flashed through his mind. “I believe there was an execution scheduled for this evening. Perhaps it is not meant to be. Now, I’ll be going.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and she frantically pulled out the time turner that was under her shirt. “We have to save Buckbeak! And you have to save yourself! Of course, how brilliant!”

“Oh, Miss Granger, three hours should do the trick.”

Hermione swung the chain over their necks as Ron watched in confused fascination. She carefully spun the dials of the time turner three times and time reversed around them. Another life could be saved alongside Harry and Sirius’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then. This chapter was one of the hardest to write emotionally, physically the words came really easily but as the author I was also thinking of all the ways I could hurt Harry with this.  
> If you didn’t read the beginning: Peter gets kissed by a dementor which Harry watches and then has a panic attack. He then runs off to save Sirius, mostly like canon.  
> Worldbuilding: It is illegal to collect and or use memories from minors, even for trials where they are the only witnesses. Taking memories can negatively effect children, unlike with adults. The memories touched can be altered drastically by something as little as the mood of the person taking the memory. There can also be memory loss or forgetfulness that can’t be cured. There are similar laws for legilimancy on children as children aren’t considered able to give consent for their minds being read. Consistent use of legilimancy on a child can cause similar consequences to taking memories as well as a messed up timeline and attention problems. (Snaps and Dumbledore don’t happen to care about legilimancy laws)


	24. Three More Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Hermione get some extra time to make sure Sirius’s soul stays in his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am /not/ happy with this chapter. It just doesn’t read right and I can’t fix it. Probably because I hate Harry Potter time travel.

Time travel was dizzying. It was if Harry were being yanked backwards as light spun around him. Finally the sensation stopped. Looking around it appeared as though they were in the deserted Entrance Hall. 

“Hermione why are we here?”

“Come on! In here!” She dragged Harry a hidden alcove. “There’s people coming, they should be us. Three hours ago we went to Hagrid’s, so, we appeared in time around where we were three hours ago. It’s slightly staggered of course so you don’t end up on top of your past self. Look, there they are.”

The trio were indeed rushing through the Entrance Hall and then disappearing under the invisibility cloak. “Blimey, that’s weird.”

“Oh, yes, it can be quite confusing. Now listen carefully, you can’t be seen by your past self.”

“What, why not?”

“Because what would you do if you saw your past self? Dark magic, insanity, horrible things!”

“But Hermione, I know about time travel. And, well, I already saw my future self. I saw me cast a patronus and I’m fine.”

She huffed, “Fine. But you can only be seen at that point in time. If you are seen by yourself you also risk being seen by others or you could change our decisions. We have to let what happened to ourselves play out the same. So we can save Buckbeak, and save you. But that’s it, nothing else, no heroic acts.”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go though, we can’t miss the execution!” Harry tugged Hermione towards the doors.

“Oh right, of course.” They carefully raced down the grounds towards Hagrid’s hut where the Minister was already entering, along with the executioner and Dumbledore himself. The bottom of three sets of feet scurried across the grass away from the hut.

Slightly muffled voices came from the hut as the execution was discussed. Harry and Hermione shrunk back into the shadows as a face peered out the window at Buckbeak. As soon as it retreated the pair darted forward. Harry bowed low to Buckbeak who returned the gesture. “Alright, come on Buckbeak. We’ve got to get you out of here. Come on!”

Buckbeak dug in his front feet and refused to move. Hermione grabbed the last ferret from the pile of small bones and swung it around, “Here Buckbeak, come take it. Yes, that’s it, follow me. Almost there!”

Slowly but surely they reached the cover of the trees. The door opened and there were exclamations of surprise. Harry frantically tugged Buckbeak backwards, further into the relative safety of the Forbidden Forest. Buckbeak resisted as Hagrid shouted for joy, but they were safe. The executioner swung his axe down and embedded it in Hagrid’s fence and Harry winced. 

“Okay, now we just need to wait for the dementors to come this way.” The thought of the hooded monsters made Harry’s skin crawl. The dreadful image of the blank skull with nothing but a gaping hold made him shiver, knowing that he could do nothing to stop Pettigrew’s soul from being stolen.

Unaware of the incoming trouble, Hagrid and Dumbledore merrily walked off towards the school and the execution party trudged away. Hermione pointed to Hagrid’s hut, “Let’s wait it out in there for the next hour or so.”

“Sounds good. What should we do with Buckbeak afterwards though? Dumbledore didn’t really give us any clues and it’s not like anybody needs to escape with him.” Harry gently guided Buckbeak, who was happy to reenter Hagrid’s house and lie down on his makeshift bed.

“We could just leave him here for Hagrid. It’s not like the executioner will come back. So long as Hagrid doesn’t let Buckbeak be seen by anyone else he’ll be fine.” Hermione stroked the stormy gray feathers of the hippogriff.

They sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence for a few more minutes before Hermione finally burst out, “Teach me the patronus charm!”

She winced at her outburst before explaining, “I mean, not now of course. But, after? Maybe? I just, I really hated leaving you and I don’t want to do that again.”

Harry smiled, “And you want to learn something new?”

She blushed, “Maybe.”

“Sure, I can teach you. I’ll try to teach Ron too but who knows how that’ll go.”

“Oh, he’ll definitely want to learn. You didn’t see him when we got inside the castle. It was... awful. We just saw all of those dementors and then they left because of Snape and we saw Pettigrew and we thought that maybe you-“ Her voice choked.

Harry squeezed Hermione’s hand as she furiously wiped at her eyes. His heart was pounding and he could only think of swarming dementors but he pushed onwards, because that was who he was, who he had become out of necessity. He had to comfort others. “I’m okay Hermione. I ran off to find Sirius. I am really sorry that you had to see all of that.”

“Oh god, Harry, it’s not your fault! You had it so much worse being out there while we were safe. You had to, to watch,” The last part was barely above a whisper and Harry just wanted to close his eyes and make the memory go away.

But when he closed his eyes he could only see Peter struggling to escape and finally going limp, could only see Sirius whimpering as he started to receive the same fate. His hands still felt cold and numb like they were in frosted grass. So Harry just smiled weakly and didn’t respond. 

He sat down next to Buckbeak and petted the hippogriff’s beak and ran his hand down his back. Buckbeak shifted his wings to allow Harry easier access to his feathers and munched on a ferret bone. Waiting for the dementors sadly gave Harry plenty of time to think about his patronus. What memory should he use? What if he couldn’t do it? Would he cease to exist if he failed and his past self lost his soul? Would he end up like Peter, empty and blank just laying unseeing- No. He had to succeed.

Hermione nervously flitted around the hut, pacing back and forth and muttering to herself as she checked the windows. Finally she stopped, “Oh. Harry, it’s starting.”

Harry leaped to his feet and raced to the window, Buckbeak squawking at the sudden movement. He pressed his face against the window and focused on the black shapes that had started to flock close to the doors. In the dim light he could barely make out five pale figures, two on the ground and three standing. Harry watched as two of the figures broke away from the group and struggled towards the castle before disappearing to safety. Hermione let out a sob as the last standing person, Harry, sunk to his knees.

Harry gently turned Hermione away from the window and she numbly sat down on Hagrid’s bed. Returning to the window Harry watched as the thrashing form of Peter Pettigrew turned limp. He watched as his own body fell completely to the ground and violently shook. Then an unidentifiable patronus burst forth from Snape’s wand, pushing back most of the dementors which then flew towards the Forbidden Forest, pursued by Harry.

Harry’s eyes widened and he bolted out the door, trying to race his past self to Sirius. Trees blended together, there was a cry from up ahead, the odd rattling noise and cold air treat signaled dementors. Almost there! He had to save Sirius and himself!

Harry burst into a clearing with a small lake. He searched and found himself and Sirius collapsed on the other shore. In horrified fascination he watched his past self scream and fail to cast one last patronus. Then Harry was stepping forward, confident in his ability and not willing to accept failure.

“Expecto patronum!” A flash of light and a stag bounded forward, galloping across the water. The light pulsated outward from the patronus as it charged and knocked through the dementors, the shores were illuminated in pure white. 

The last of the dementors fled and the stag bowed to the collapsed body of Harry before turning and bounding back.

The stag reached Harry and he grinned, reaching out to pat it. Touching the stag patronus sent a surge of warmth and joy through him. Harry looked up once more at the Harry across the lake and winked. Then he turned and dashed back through the forest to reach the hut.

Hermione hurtled out and crashed into Harry, crushing him in a tight hug. “Thank goodness, you’re alright!”

“What, did you not have any faith in me?”

“No, no! That’s not it! Come on, we have to get back to the Hospital Wing soon. We should be back when we leave.”

“Wait, let’s leave a note for Hagrid. Just to tell him to hide Buckbeak somewhere safe, otherwise he’ll go around telling everyone he’s back.”

“Oh, yes, you’re right. Here I’ll write something,” Hermione quickly scribbled a note which she left on the table. “Now, let’s go.”

“Under the cloak so we’re not seen,” Harry pulled the invisibility cloak out of his pocket where he had stashed it in the Shrieking Shack. “Say, Hermione, what do you think will happen to Sirius now?”

They exited the hut and started the walk back to the castle. “Well, the Minister was talking about the checkups on his health. And Madam Pomfrey mentioned a trial and being cleared to rejoin society. I’m not sure what a legilimens is though, something about the mind.”

Harry silently processed her words as they entered the castle and made their way up to the Hospital Wing. “I honestly don’t know how you did this all year, it’s stressful.”

“Well, I just used it for classes.” At his indignant look she added, “And naps. Sometimes. I think I’ll stop using it next year though. I already dropped Divination and I can drop Muggle Studies as well because I’m miles ahead of anything they teach. It’s just too much pressure to take all of the classes.”

Harry welcomed the distraction of small talk, if he didn’t have anything to keep his mind occupied he probably would have thrown up again. “I’ve been considering dropping Divination like you but it’s such an easy class. If it helps keep my grade up with minimal effort than why drop it? I’m really glad that I took Ancient Runes though.”

“Right? I prefer Arithmancy but runes are fascinating. I can’t wait for next years when Professor Babbling will allow us to work on more complicated circles.”

“Maybe we’ll have class together and can work on them. Right now I work with Padma and she’s excellent, but it’d be nice to have it with you as well.” 

The Hospital Wing was just down the hall. Harry tugged off the invisibility cloak and pocketed it. “Shall we?”

The door opened and Dumbledore beamed at them. “How did it go?”

“I cast the patronus and we saved Buckbeak. He’s currently in Hagrid’s hut. But Dumbledore sir, what’s going to happen to Sirius?”

Dumbledore sighed, “He will have a trial in which he will certainly be found innocent of all crimes. After that he must have regular healing sessions with a specialized mind healer to determine how damaged he was by the dementors. We are currently unsure of how he is. Now, you must be getting inside before Pomfrey sees you up and about.”

Harry frowned but went inside anyways. He lay there on a hospital bed for hours, unable to sleep, plagued by thoughts of his godfather and Remus forced into a different body and Peter Pettigrew, a horrible person but still a person that couldn’t be one any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO CHAPTERS LEFT! I will definitely be taking a week or so break inbetween the books. I’ll post the first chapter of The Worthy of Fire so I don’t have to worry about people missing the update but then it’s break time! I’m only on chapter eleven because school is just. So much. Ugh.  
> Worldbuilding: When powerful wizards are extremely emotional, or if they learn to control the ability to let their magic flow through their bodies, some of their physical features can become enhanced. Eyes will glow or brighten, hair can crackle with electricity, skin can feel ice cold or burning hot, or voices changing, among other types of effects. Generally a wizard only exhibits one or two types of enhancement but the more powerful a person is the more they will display. Dumbledore is known for a commanding voice during war and can cause his eyes to twinkle and his beard to shine.


	25. Dumbledore Disappoints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And it’s not really a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, is anyone surprised?

After Harry finally, after several hours of restlessness, fell asleep, a great many things happened. First off, as he would later learn via the newspaper, the body of Peter Pettigrew had been moved to permanent residency in Saint Mungo’s as Azkaban would be useless. He was kept in a solitary room and his breathing yet not quite alive body was only interacted with by healers and ministry officials. Second, the mind of Sirius Black was finished with examination. Harry would learn the results later that day. Lastly, his favorite ever professor and best not-uncle, had transformed back into a man in the Shrieking Shack. There he lay for quite awhile, bleeding and exhausted and filled with the deepest of self hatred. Eventually memories of the night returned to him and immediately he left to discover the condition of his not-nephew and best friend. Harry would not learn of those in between hours but he would talk to Remus.

When Harry awoke, sun was shining through the great windows of the Hospital Wing. Looking around, he was the only patient as Ron and Hermione seemed to have vacated. He pushed himself up, limbs stiff and mind still exhausted, and climbed out of the white hospital bed. Judging by how low the sun was it was still quite early and he could make breakfast.

After casting a suspicious eye around for Madam Pomfrey, he made his escape. Harry hurried down to the Great Hall, hoping that his friends could possibly shed some light on what had happened. After all, there must have been some news on Peter and Sirius.

The Great Hall was as loud and bustling as always. But there was a distinct difference to it. There was not as much laughter and more suspicious gazes and intense looks as papers were passed around. Harry carefully hurried over to the Gryffindor table where Ron and Hermione were sitting together, looking absolutely miserable. A frantic looking Percy Weasley was asking Ron questions and pointing at the paper.

“What’s happened?” He immediately asked upon sitting down.

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Hermione greeted him. However her face quickly turned sour, “Look at the paper. They printed an emergency edition.”

She handed over a copy of the Daily Prophet.

_**Horrible Blunder, Harmless Black? Sirius Black Innocent!** _

_Late last night there was a shocking development in the closed, decade old Black case. Peter Pettigrew, believed to be murdered over twelve years ago, appeared on Hogwarts grounds. A story came out that Black was actually innocent and Pettigrew had blown up the street himself and disappeared as an unregistered rat animagus, framing Black._

_Minister Fudge himself as well as Bartemius Crouch soon appeared on the scene to get the whole truth and apprehend a criminal. They discovered that Peter Pettigrew had indeed killed twelve muggles and faked his death after betraying the location of Lily and James Potter to Voldemort. Black, knowing the truth, pursued Pettigrew. He was then charged with crimes he didn’t commit after Pettigrew’s disappearing act. The most scandalous of all? Sirius Black never received a trial! How could the Ministry let an innocent man of such a high station rot in prison for twelve years?_

_For more on how Pettigrew tricked the wizarding world and eventually received the dementors kiss, turn to page five._

Harry finished the extended article and then threw down the paper. Excellent that Sirius was acknowledged as innocent, but useless. “What happened to Sirius? Is he okay?”

Ron had started to ignore Percy who was rambling about both of them sleeping with in the same bed as a middle aged man. “We’re not sure mate. He had some mind healer looking at him and he’s supposedly at Saint Mungo’s right now. You should ask Lupin.”

Just then, Snape strode furiously into the room. His face was set in a twisted scowl and his hands were clenched white around a copy of the Daily Prophet. He did not break his stride passing the Gryffindor table or the staff table, only glaring harder at Remus’s empty seat before moving on. He headed straight for the Slytherin table before stopping. He then began to speak in an audible voice, “Such as shame that Professor Lupin is not here to learn of these events.”

Harry internally panicked. Had something happened to Remus? Was he hurt? Did he try to escape the Shrieking Shack and get crushed by the Whomping Willow? Had ministry workers found him?

“Sadly, he has to recover from spending his night gallivanting around, not quite himself. I’d say he had a bit of a case of moon madness. The full moon can do such, horrible, things to a man. Like turn them into something else, something, lesser.” His voice dropped with poison and several students’ eyes dawned with realization. Voices began talking and Snape walked away, face full of self satisfaction.

Harry slammed his hands on the table, shaking the silverware. Ron and Hermione’s faces were pale with shock and worry as Harry stood. He followed Snape out of the hall and he didn’t notice until they were halfway down the dungeon corridor.

Snape finally whirled around, “What do you want, Potter?”

“You- you- you bastard!”

Snape’s face tightened with anger and disbelief. His voice was very dangerous as he hissed, “What did you say to me?”

“You’re a bastard!” Harry couldn’t stop, not even as every instinct taught to him by the Durlsey’s screamed at him to turn tail and run, to hide, to cover his face. “You’re angry because Sirius didn’t get punished for being innocent so you just went and got Remus fired! Do you know hard it is for him to get a job? You just publicly exposed him as a werewolf and he may never find a job in the wizarding world again! Are you proud of yourself? ARE YOU?” He screamed the last part, eyes watering with tears as he imagined Remus in his worn down robes being forced out of Hogwarts.

Snape snarled, “Shut up Potter! Silence yourself! Detention for the rest of term! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

Harry did as he was told and ran. Rage was still clouding his mind but slowly disappearing and he couldn’t bring himself to regret anything he had said. And as he raced up the stairs towards Remus’s office he smiled to himself, term ended tomorrow after all, and Snape couldn’t alter his punishment now.

Knocking on the door, Harry waited with bated breath. “Come in, Harry.”

He entered, “How did you know it was me?”

Remus smiled and held up the open Marauder’s Map. “You did leave this in my possession last night. It has been quite useful in keeping away potential, uh, unwanted visitors. I was notified that Severus accidentally ‘let loose’ my secret over breakfast.”

“He’s a right arse!” Harry burst out, then flushed in embarrassment. He sheepishly admitted, “I yelled at him after he left the Great Hall. He gave me detention but he was so mad he gave it just for the rest of term.”

Remus chuckled, “He did always let his temper get the better of him. You did not have to do that for me though, but I am grateful for your loyalty.”

Harry then took a look around the once familiar office. Books were all stacked up, two trunks were sitting open, everything was neatly piled up. Very quietly he said, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Remus sighed, “Sadly, I am. Any hour now the letters of concerned parents will start arriving. I’m afraid Severus has held onto his grudge against me and was angry that Sirius did not receive the kiss, so he exposed me as a werewolf.”

“Why does he hate you so much?”

“Because several years ago while we were in school, we were rivals of sorts. The four of us picked on Snape and he sent it right back. He wanted to know where I disappeared to once a month so Sirius thought it would be funny to tell him how to freeze the Willow. Needless to say, it was not funny and I would have killed Severus that night if not for your father realizing what Sirius had done and saving Severus. He thought I was in in it and it only furthered his hatred of me. So now he has retaliated by forcing me to resign. Though I may have done so anyways to take care of Sirius.”

Remus caught Harry’s interested look. “Yes, I will be living with Sirius this summer and helping him recover. The dementors did quite a number in him and it will take some time to recover. He has-“

“Harry Potter?” A nervous young girl stuck her head through the door. “Headmaster Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office immediately. He also said chuckle chocolates.” She then disappeared.

“I suppose Dumbledore wishes to explain things himself,” Remus looked troubled by this. “I will be seeing you this summer I hope. I’ll be leaving within the hour though. You can mail me at Lupin Cabin. And here, take this.”

Remus handed him the Marauder’s Map and Harry had the overwhelming urge to cry. “Thank you, Remus. I guess I’ll see you soon. Be safe.”

He then left the office before he could start to sob. Hardy wiped away the tears in his eyes and marched off to Dumbledore’s office, determined to get answers. After all, the man had interrupted his goodbyes with Remus. Standing steady before the gargoyle he confidently stated, “Chuckle chocolates.”

Dumbledore’s office was exactly how it had been the last time Harry had seen it, minus a bloody sword and destroyed diary. Whimsical gadgets cheerfully whirred on and Fawkes let out a musical welcome. Dumbledore smiled from his chair, “Please, take a seat Harry.”

Harry sat down in one of the chairs opposite the headmaster and had the distinct feeling that they were purposely lower to the ground. “Please tell me what happened to Sirius.”

“Ah yes, of course you would like answers about your godfather. Yes, Sirius is your godfather! But I must say, you behaved very bravely last night. You were very strong to witness the dementors kiss.” Harry hasn’t felt brave at all, only sick and fearful and awful, even if Peter was a horrible person. “And saving yourself from the dementors. You know, you have the same stag patronus as your father.”

Harry already knew that. Already knew that Sirius was his godfather. Dumbledore was simply telling him things that other, more trusting adults had already told him. And it filled him with a deadly yet silent anger. Why couldn’t he have told him this earlier, told him more?

“Sadly, dementors are awful creatures with awful effects on wizards. Just being around them for long can cause insanity, though luckily Sirius escaped this. However, twelve years exposure to them as well almost being kissed took its toll. I’m sorry to say that Sirius’s emotions are out of sync and he has some memory loss. He is certainly not fit to be a guardian currently, I’m sad to inform you that you must return to the Durlsey’s this summer and wait at least two weeks before visiting to insure your safety. I’ll have someone posted each day to make sure no one tries to attack the house, after that you should be safe.” Dumbledore’s eyes were still twinkling and his face looked sad and Fawkes trilled in the background and Harry wanted to  punch his crooked nose .

“Oh,” Is what he said instead.

“Lemon drop, my dear boy. It may help you feel better.” Harry numbly took the sour candy and felt worse. There was now a literal sour taste in his mouth as well as a figurative one.

His mind was filled with the repeating mantra of: memory loss, back to the Dursley’s, memory loss. Not all there he stiffly replied, “I, I think I’ll go now. Thank you for telling me sir.”

He stood and left the office. Sour lemon burned his tongue and  memory loss, back to the Dursley’s replayed over and over. Sirius had lost some memories, was unfit to care for him, he couldn’t live with his godfather. He was going back to the Dursley’s. Back to the small bedroom that might have new bars on the windows and the cat flap for occasional food and so many locks that he couldn’t undo. Back to once a day bathroom breaks and fearing starvation. He wouldn’t be able to leave for two weeks. Could he still get to his job? Could he sneak out? Could he still take up Stan’s offer to live with him?

As so many things were for Harry Potter, this outcome was not at all fair or kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter to go! I am mildly freaking out because yes!! but also no!! I don’t have enough cheaters ready!!  
> Poor Harry, nothing ever goes right for him. He just wants to live with someone who loves him but instead he’s going back to the dreadful Dursleys.   
> Worldbuilding: Cats are generally acknowledged as magical creatures. More traditional families believe they have the ability to see spirits or other invisible creatures. The myth of their nine lives is actually believed to be their ability to be reincarnated as another cat that’s close to their owners family eight more times. Vampires in particular believe this and often have cat companions.


	26. Departing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry leaves Hogwarts for the summer, but how will he handle being forced to stay with the Durlseys?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. Last chapter.

Compared to the days previous, the last day of school was dreadfully uneventful. Harry spent the morning scrubbing a muddied hall without magic but he was so used to it from the Dursley’s it barely even felt like punishment. After that trunks were packed and lost items were found and suddenly they were packed onto the train.

Collapsed in a compartment with the door thoroughly locked and the curtains drawn across, Harry began to speak. “Sirius apparently has memory loss, so he’s staying with Remus and I can’t live with him.”

“Oh, Harry, that sucks,” Ron gave him a sympathetic pat.

“That’s awful! I’m so sorry Harry.”

“It’s alright. At least he’s free now and can be healed. That night could have gone a lot worse.” Harry shuddered to think of it, if his patronus hadn’t been strong enough.

“Yeah mate, what if Lupin hadn’t found us. How did he anyways? He mentioned a map and you talked about it too and you said something about Trelawney.” As Ron spoke Harry realized how confusing that must have been to his friends. And they had put up with his secrecy all year. He owed this to them.

“This is the Marauder’s Map,” Harry pulled it out with a flourish and unlocked it. “It’s, obviously, a magical map of Hogwarts. Remus, my dad, Sirius, and Peter made it together in school. I gave it to Remus because Trelawney was weird during my final and I wanted to make sure that an adult knew where I was if something went wrong, which it always does.

“After doing my prediction bull for her she froze up and her eyes rolled back. It was honestly really creepy when she started speaking in a weird voice. She said something about servants and masters and Voldemort, here, let me write it out.” Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and carefully wrote down the prediction.

‘The reunion happens tonight. The servant has lain dormant for twelve years. He without a name is weak, alone and desperate. Tonight, before midnight. The servant will awaken and flee for his master. The Dark Lord will once again rise with the help of his follower, stronger and more horrible than he ever was. Tonight before midnight, a man lost, a man saved, a freedom that aids the master.’

“Well it’s obviously more shit like she always says because Pettigrew, well, he didn’t die but he’s not all there anymore. She only got it half right.” Ron looked troubled but not terribly so.

Hermione looked it over before agreeing, “You’ve got nothing to worry about Harry. You know that Trelawney is just a fraud. Sometimes she’ll get something sort of right, this is just like then. You shouldn’t dwell on it since it’s clearly not true.”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. It’s just nonsense.” Then there came a tapping, “Hey, is that an owl?”

Indeed, a tiny owl was frantically trying to keep up with the accelerating train while weighed down by two letters. Ron opened up the window and it swooped inside, doing loops in the air before it held out its leg to Harry. The two letters simply had Moony and Padfoot written on them.

Harry tore open the letter from his godfather first, desperate to hear from him.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope this letter reaches you before you arrive at your relatives as I remember them disliking owls. Admittedly, my memory is not the best right now. There are blank spots in my memory but they seem to shift as yesterday I could not remember my sorting yet today it is perfectly clear. Also, my mood tends to swing wildly and to different extremes. I should be able to heal but it will take time, sadly this legally prevents me from being a suitable guardian._

_I would like to apologize for my actions this year. While I was certainly not in my right mind, I was still wrong to attack the Fat Lady and scare you and your friends so much. I am deeply sorry for hurting your friend’s leg. Also, I don’t think I ever got around to telling you, but I sent the Firebolt. I had Crookshanks bring an order into the shop under your name and paid from my own vault, think of it as twelve years of birthday presents._

_Hopefully you will be able to visit soon. I have to get the okay from my healer first but that should definitely be within the summer. If you wish to, you can write to me at Lupin Cabin._

_Love, Sirius_

_P.S. Your friend can have the owl, as I am the reason he no longer has a rat_.

Harry grinned down at the parchment. “Hey Hermione. You were right about the Firebolt, Sirius Black did send it.”

Her eyes widened comically, “I told you so!”

“But it wasn’t jinxed at all.”

“I was still right!”

“Also, Ron, the owl is yours now. Cause you don’t have Scabbers anymore.”

“Seriously? Blimey mate, thanks!” Ron reached for the small twittering bird, eyes wide.

Harry then opened the second letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I know we saw each other just a day ago but I couldn’t resist writing. Sirius has settled down at my place, though his shifting memories worry me. Do not worry terribly though, he will be seeing a mind healer twice a week. If you would like, the healer estimates that you can probably visit us in August._

_Please continue to write to Sirius and I, it’s nice to be able to talk to you since we can’t have our meetings anymore._

_I hope to be hearing from you, Remus_

Grinning, Harry penned out two responses and gave them to Hedwig. “Come back to Privet Drive, yeah girl? Just wait until I’m outside to show yourself so I can bring you in. Don’t let Dudley see you.”

Hedwig gave an affronted look as if to say she wasn’t stupid and took off with the letters. It was not long after that there was a knock on the compartment door. Curious, Harry stood and pulled back the curtain. Standing there, looking a bit awkward, was Cedric Diggory.

Harry stepped out of the compartment and closed the door behind him. “How’d you that I was in there?”

“Ah, well, you weren’t anywhere else.” Cedric looked rather embarrassed now. “I just, Well, I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you’ve had a rough year and we’re sort of friends so I wanted to check on you.”

“Oh.” That was quite nice of Cedric. “Thank you, I’m okay now. Thanks for checking though.”

There was a short, awkward silence. “Hey, Harry, since we never did get that rematch. Would you like to come flying at my place sometime this summer? I live near the Weasley’s so maybe we could-“

“Yeah, that’d be great Cedric. I’d like that a lot.” And it was true, Cedric was likable. He was kind, and handsome, intelligent and good at Quidditch. He made the effort to bring Harry his broken broom and check up on him.

“Okay, good. Whats your address then, so I can mail you?”

“Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Tell the owl to wait until night to deliver it though, my relatives are muggles and they don’t like magic too much.”

Cedric looked rather confused by this but nodded, “Okay, I’ll owl you soon. Have a good summer Harry.”

Harry smiled as Cedric left. Maybe he couldn’t stay with his godfather and would be forced to stay at the Dursley’s for at least two weeks. But maybe his summer wouldn’t be awful. He could owl his friends, he could owl Cedric, he could work in the Knight Bus, and he could maybe see his godfather and Remus. It might even be a good summer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank everyone that has been reading and commenting, it means so much to me! I’ve written a lot (way too much) but this is the first time that I have ever finished a book. That my first multi chapter fic got such a big response is just incredible. I hope you all continue to read the series as chapter one of The Worthy of Fire should be up a couple of minutes after this is posted.


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